


We'll All Go Together

by Heavenlea6292



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Megstiel - Freeform, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Prison AU, Prison setting, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Torture, megcentric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 23,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenlea6292/pseuds/Heavenlea6292
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(PRISON AU REQUEST) My boo vaginapowersactivate.tumblr.com liked the idea of a prison Au. <br/>Dean and Sam left John when Dean was 18. On a routine salt-and-burn, Dean gets caught with Sammy digging up a grave. Dean assaults the officer for putting his hands on Sammy and gets sentenced to about 2 years.<br/>Stuck in solitary, he makes friends with (what he thinks is a ghost) Castiel, who talks to him through a grate connecting their rooms. Between Cas, Benny (the head of the kitchen), a head guard named Alastair with a disregard for human rights, and Meg, the doctor that puts the "psycho" in "psychotherapist", it's gonna be a long sentence- especially with Sammy finding an old friend of theirs that was thought to be dead on the outside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Are You Kidding Me?

_He shouldn't have pled out._  
"Alright, Mr. Winchester. Bend forward and brace your hands on the ledge there, thank you."  
 _Yeah, worst idea ever._  
  
He was wearing the tan scrub-like outfit, the coarse fabric itching gainst his skin. He missed his flannel. He missed his jeans. Hell, he missed his fucking boxers.  
"Alright Winchester," the burly man from behind the desk said, leafing through a large manilla folder, "Looks like you're gonna be in solitary for a while."  
"What?" he demanded, "Dude, I wasn't sentenced to solitary!" The guy looked up at Dean, glancing down at the silver cuffs around his wrists. This kid was too pretty to be put into the general population- it wasn't for his safety, not really, it was so he could avoid having to clean up after the trail of rage and bitch fights he'd leave behind him. He snorted, leaning forward and splaying his fingers on the dark wood of the desk.  
"Look, boy," the man said, making Dean wince. He hated being called boy, "We ain't got anywhere safe for your mental condition and your pretty princess face. Unless you like facials."  
"I prefer my facials coming from a cute little Asian girl after a massage, thanks," Dean replied in disgust.  How the hell did he get into this? Oh yeah- he got mad. That seemed like the story of his life. He'd get mad, and then get the shit kicked out of him for it- literaly and figuratively.   


It was a routine salt and burn, and he was about 3/4 of the way to the coffin when he heard Sam start stuttering. He looked out of the hole to see a Cop with his flashlight raised and gun pulled, barking commands at Sammy. Sammy looked like he was gonna puke, his hands behind his head and kneeling down on the ground. Dean scrambled out of the hole, putting his hands in the air.  
"Whoa man!" he yelled, drawing the cops attention, "Leave the kid alone! He's with me, man, I made him come!" The cop turned the gun and flashlight on Dean, bellowing for him to get down on his knees or he'd shoot. Dean did as he was told, still trying to reason with the cop for Sam's ass. He didn't need this shit.  
The cop did the wrong thing, really- he had threatened Sammy, and he'd tried to put handcuffs on his little brother. No one was gonna gonna arrest Sammy. Sammy had everything to live for.  
He couldn't say he honestly remembered what exactly he did, but he remembered the cop shoving Sam on the ground from his kneeling position with a foot between the shoulders; and he remembered Sam letting out a little grunt...and then he was being yanked off the cop by Sammy, who was begging him to calm the hell down.  The arrest and all of it was a blur, and all he really remembered about agreeing to jail time was Sammy shoving a pen in his hand and saying, "Just sign it, Dean. I'll visit you every chance I have and you'll be home in time for Christmas next year. Hell, with good behavior, maybe even earlier."  
"How did I get off so easy?" he asked, looking over at Sam. Sam bit his lip, looking down at the scratched tabletop between them.  
"I, uh, might've told them that you sorta had a freak out."  
"You what?" Dean demanded, his hands jerking and clattering the chains on his wrists loudly against their harness.  
"Look, it's the only decent thing Dad can give us," he replied, "I told them that Dad was real messed up, that's why we ran away when you were 18 and that's why you totally lost your shit when the cop pushed me down. You got time cut off as long as you agree to see a doctor." Dean sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.  
"You are beyond lucky that I'm chained to this fuckin table," he muttered, holding his hand out for the pen, "Hand it over. Sooner I sign, the sooner I'm in and the sooner I'm home."

And now he was standing in front of this asshole, being told he'd be in solitary because....he grimaced, he had a 'pretty princess' face.  
He would never ever listen to Sammy's legal advice again.

The two guards had a hold of either bicep, and Dean almost laughed. The cop to his right only came up to his shoulder, while the other cop was barely the same height.  Hey, if he made it through this, maybe he'd tell Sammy to get a job as a rent-a-cop at the local prison. He'd be scary enough.

"Alright, Winchester. Block a, solitary, room 009," the shorter cop announced, the bigger one planting a hand firmly between his shoulders and shoving him inside the small room.  
"Hey, how long are ya keeping me in here?" Dean asked. Neither cop answered.  
"Uh, do I ever get out?" he tried again. Both cops had begun to walk away, and he pressed his face against the small slit of a window, "Hey! Answer me, you fuckin rent-a-cops!" They sealed the door at the end of the hallway, and he slammed his fist off the wall hard, letting out a frustrated yell.  
"Don't do that, it'll damage your ears," a smooth voice said.  
"What?" he said, looking around. The room was empty.  
"Shit," he muttered, his mouth going dry. Was he seriously locked in solitary with a fucking ghost?


	2. Only Like 500 Days To Go

"Hey man, you wanna tell me who you are?" 

Dean had been sitting in the room for so long, he was about to smash his head off of something. He'd ran through Zep's and Metallica's greatest hits, already jacked off twice, and did at least 200 push ups; he even slept for a decent amount of time. He was hoping that maybe this ghost was at least friendly, even if he hadn't exactly heard of a ghost manifesting with only a voice, and he felt no discernible cold spots.  
"You know who I am," the disembodied voice replied. Dean rolled his eyes.  
"Newsflash, if I'm askin you who you are, I have no clue buddy," he said, pulling the scratchy blanket from the cot around his shoulders.  
"I'm a friend," the voice said, and Dean's shoulders shivered a little. He didn't have friends. It wasn't really part of his personality to make friends. Honestly, the last friend he had was Sam's high school girlfriend- cute little redhead, from Ireland. But she and her brother just disappeared one day. He wanted to go looking for them, but Sam said that if she was gonna disappear like that, she must've had a reason not to want to be found. That always bugged Dean. He liked that girl. She was kinda like a baby sister. 

"I don't have friends," Dean said, looking up at the stark white ceiling.  
"Yes you do," the voice said slowly, "You have me." Dean laid back on the cot, throwing his arm over his eyes.  
"Yeah, well I'd rather have my little brother, no offense buddy."  
"None taken." 

Dean sat up a little, looking confused. Huh, that wasn't what he expected.  
"So, mysterious voice that may or may not be a ghost," he began, "You know how long I've been in here?"  
"About 29 hours," the voice replied, "Breakfast should be coming soon." Dean made a surprised face, nodding.  
"I could use some chow," he said, nodding. The voice, thus far, had been helpful, "Hey, voice, you got a name, or should I give you a name?"  
"I am Castiel," the voice said, and if Dean didn't know better, he'd say it was hesitant. He nodded.  
"So, Cas," he said, "Just you and me in here. How long you been here?" He listened, waiting for a reply, but there was none. He shrugged.  
"Suit yourself." 

There was an obscenely loud bang through the room, making him clap his hands on his ears.  
"Calm down, inmate!" a loud voice yelled from outside the cell, a tray being held through a small opening in the door. Dean came over quickly, taking the tray from the guy's hands and looking at the tray.  
"What the fuck is this?" he demanded, looking at the mysterious and strange smelling casserole.  
"Watch your mouth, inmate!" the guy yelled, smacking the window that Dean was looking out of with his nightstick. Dean jumped and looked shocked as the guard's face disappeared from the window.  
"How the hell am I supposed to eat this?" he demanded, "This is worse than Dad's hangover cure."  
"It is quite foul," the voice said sympathetically. Dean laughed a little. The voice was starting to grow on him.  
"You want a taste?" he said, holding the fork out in front of him.  
"I would not," the voice said, a trace of disgust in its voice. He laughed again, pinching his nose and shoving the food in his mouth. He swallowed quickly, gagging on the nasty food.  
"Sonofabitch, it tastes as bad as it smells," he choked out. The voice chuckled a little, making Dean smile. This was the most he'd actually talked to someone since all this started, other than Sammy. He managed to choke the rest of the casserole down, drowning out the taste with water from the faucet on the back of the toilet. He sat back down on the cot, still feeling exhausted and tasting something in his mouth that reminded him of all the times he'd ended up with dirt in his mouth as a kid.  
"You seem fatigued," Castiel said, making Dean shrug.  
"Only like, 500 days to go," Dean said, resting his head on the concrete.


	3. Barrel of Fun

He was woken up by the sound of the door opening and the smell of perfume filling the room. 

"Hi there," the warm, gravelly voice said, drawing Dean to full attention. The woman came in and sat down on the chair she had brought with her, adjusting her coat and skirt carefully as she sat, clipboard in her lap, "You're Dean Winchester. I'm your psychotherapist." Dean sat on the edge of the bed, uncomfortable with this woman's presence.  
"Uh, who are you?" he asked, looking ready to bolt out the door that was currently unlocked. she followed his eyes, clicking her tongue.  
"Ah ah, Deano," she said softly, "You won't like what I have to do if you try that."  
"You're what, 5'4 and 120 pounds soaking wet?' Dean demanded, "What are you gonna do to me?" The woman smirked, folding her hands and crossing her legs.  
"Are you willing to find out?"  
Dean calculated. He could get past her easily, take her keys, and possibly get out of here with his...skills. It was worth the risk.  
He sprung off the bed at her, and in the split second before he would've hit her, she looked vaguely amused.  
Suddenly, he was on his face, her meager weight on his back as she snapped cuffs around his wrists. She leaned down close to his ear, whispering; "Now you know. I wouldn't try it again, next time I'll have to be rough." She stood, pulling him to his feet and putting him back on the cot.  
"And you know...next time I'll have to sedate you and cuff you to your bed. No one likes being restrained, and the guards aren't nice to the inmates that are all trussed up," she added, smoothing her hair, "I am Doctor Masters, but in our private sessions you can call me Meg." He nodded, still catching his breath. She picked up her clipboard again, looking over the page clipped to it. 

"Oh, aren't you just a barrel of fun," she murmured, "Looks like you made quite an impression on the forensic psychologist. Ooh, this is juicy. Complex PTSD- wow, that's not even recognized by the books yet- Oh, Paranoid Schizophrenic. Narcissistic Personality disorder, I haven't seen that since we had a serial killer on campus shortly before he died. Ugh, Obsessive Compulsive tendencies, I hate dealing with those. You aren't the type that has to clean things over and over, right? Or touch something a thousand times?"  
"No!" Dean snapped. What kind of doctor was she? She sounded like a teenager reading a gossip magazine, and she looked like a cat playing with a mouse she plans on enjoying heartily.  
"Fantastic. I would've had to refer you to someone else," she said, pulling a pen from behind her ear, "Now, since this is our first session, we're gonna talk about how you're doing right now."  
"How do you think I feel?" he snapped. She looked at him and smirked. 

"I'd imagine you feel trapped. Alone. Probably hungry, considering that solitary isn't exactly known for its great attention to dietary requirements. You miss your sweet little brother, and you probably have jacked off so much that your dick is raw," she penned something down on the paper, glancing up at him, "Sound about right?" He snorted.  
"Just about," he replied.  
"You're doin great, sugar," she said, scribbling more, "Okay, so we're gonna talk about why you beat the hell outta that cop."  
"He was a dick," Dean snapped. Meg made a face, shrugging.  
"Can't argue with you on that, most cops are," she replied, "But there are laws that say that we're not allowed to hit the nice men in blue. But Sammy says that this isn't the first time you've gone to town on some guys face and turned it into hamburger. This is just the first time you got caught."  
"He's right," Dean said, "But I can't get in trouble for that, right?" Meg laughed, shaking her head.  
"Oh sweetheart, I'm not here to tattle on you," she said, "Now, start from the first time you remember beating the living dog crap out of someone." 

Dean felt completely exhausted by the time Doctor Masters left, laying on the cot with his arm over his eyes. He'd edited so much of the story, it was gonna be exhausting to keep up with what he didn't say.  
"Hey Cas," he said, his voice sounding exhausted, "How you doin, wherever you are?"  
"I'm reasonably fine," Cas replied, "You sound exhausted."  
"Talking always makes me exhausted," he replied.  
"I find that people usually feel rejuvenated when they talk about their feelings," Cas said.  
"Not me."  
"Oh."  
Dean rolled over in his cot, pulling the blanket over his head.  
"Don't sleep too much Dean. It will breed muscular atrophy," Cas said, making Dean laugh.  
"What, should I work out?" he asked, sitting up.  
"Expending energy often makes the time pass faster, yes," Cas said, "I am only trying to help."  
"Well, I guess thanks," Dean said, kicking back the blankets. He followed Cas's advice, working out as well as he could in the small space. He worked out until he was completely exhausted, collapsing against the cot drenched in sweat and drifting to sleep.


	4. The Ghost Next Door

He only was able to tell the days passing by Meg's coming and going and Cas's times. Every day it was the same. Eat the disgusting food, work out, talk to Meg, talk to Cas, work out, eat the food, sleep. Cas was comforting, a friend in his otherwise empty existence, until one day he finally had to bring it up to her that he was hearing a voice.

"Doctor Masters, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think you're helping me much," Dean said, running his fingers through his hair.  Meg looked up from her clipboard, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.  
"And what makes you say that, sugar?" she asked. Dean bit his lip. How did he tell her about Castiel?  
"I'm...I'm hearing a voice," he said, "It's not like, a bunch. And it's not telling me to set shit on fire, so don't go there. I just, hear a voice." He looked up to the pretty woman's face, seeing her little smirk.  
"Oh honey, you aren't goin crazy," she said, "That would be Castiel, am I right?"  
"How the fuck did you know that?" Dean demanded. Meg shrugged and laughed.  
"Oh, I know Castiel," she said, looking around the room, "Cas....are you making friends?"  
"Yes," the voice said hesitantly, "You said that I should make connections."  
"Yes I did, my sweet little unicorn," she said, "But I didn't expect you to make friends with the Cop-beater next door." Dean looked completely confused, his mouth open.  
"Uh, next door?" Dean asked, "Isn’t he in here? Isn't he a ghost?"  Meg threw her head back, laughing.  
"Oh wow, I have to write that one down," she said, scribbling, “So A cop-beater is in solitary confinement..."  
"Come on, seriously," Dean said,”Stop yanking my leg."

Meg rolled her eyes, squatting down next to his bed.  
"Dean, can you come down here?' she asked. He did so, following her gaze under the bed, seeing a large grate under the bed.  
"I didn't notice that," he said, blushing a little. Meg shrugged, leaning a little closer.  
"Castiel, sweetheart, will you introduce yourself properly to the crazy man over here?" she asked sweetly.  
"I am Castiel Milton," Cas said, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Dean Winchester." Dean looked at Meg, half angry.  
"He's heard everything we've talked about?" he demanded.  
"Yes," Meg replied, "Which wouldn't have happened if you knew how to behave yourself. Cas and I have our meetings in my office. But all those temper tantrums over the food really don't make the guards like you. You're on full lockdown until we find a room for the both of you."  
"Why can't he have a room?" Dean asked, "The guy at the front desk said it was because I was too..." he swallowed, unwilling to actually say it.  
"Too pretty?" Meg asked helpfully, "Oh honey, Castiel has the same problem." 

"But if he's there, how does he know the time?" Dean demanded. Meg pursed her lips, raising an eyebrow.  
"Castiel, are you the one who stole my watch?" she asked. There was a pause before the answer came.  
"Yes."  
"You know that doesn't make me very happy, don't you?" she asked.  
"I know."  
"You could've asked."  
"I didn't want to," Came Cas's reply.

Dean almost laughed. This man sounded like a giant child at times. He tried not to laugh, and Meg turned to him with a cold smile.  
"Well, there you are Dean. Not going crazy- well, any crazier than you already are," she said, tapping his knee with her clipboard, "Now be a good boy, and maybe I can get you both out of here in the next couple days. We have a couple of people getting ready for release, and if you two behave like my good little boys, I might be able to get you two out with all the other kids." She stood, moving to the door. She paused though, looking back towards the bed.  
"And Cas, I want my watch back at our next session," she said, closing the door.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me you were next door?" Dean demanded, cracking his knuckles.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't think it was relevant," Cas said, sounding very contrite. Dean rolled his eyes, getting down and starting to do push ups again without responding.  
"Dean?" Cas asked hesitantly, "Dean?"  
"I'm still here," he grunted.  
"I figured you were, I only thought you were angry." Dean stopped mid pushup, dropping down on his stomach.  
"Dude, you made me think i was going coo coo for cocoa puffs over here," he snipped, "Hell yeah, I'm fucking mad."  
"I am sorry, truly Dean," Cas said softly. Dean shrugged, figuring that an idiot friend was better than nothing in here.  
"Whatever man," he said, "How long you been over there?" There was silence as Castiel calculated.  
"Three months, two weeks and 4 days," he said finally. Dean almost choked. No wonder the guy was a little nutty.  
"What'd you do to get that?" he asked. There was a soft sigh.  
"Meg says I shouldn't tell people," Cas said quietly. Dean shrugged.  
"Fair enough. And as you know, I'm here for beating the tar outta a cop."  
"He laid his hands upon your younger brother," Cas replied, "My own brothers have done the same for me."  
"You got brother?" Dean asked.  
"Several," Cas replied, "I'm the youngest in my family. Well, my blood family."  
"Ahh, the baby," Dean said, "Like my brother."  
"Yes," Castiel replied. Dean laid on the floor for several hours, Cas and him talking about Sammy and Castiel's brothers. They sounded like okay guys- well, his brother Michael and Lucifer sounded like assholes, but for the most part, they seemed alright. They even ate their barely tolerable dinner that way, talking and sharing stories. It wasn't until Dean said he was tired that Cas stopped talking, and as he drifted off to sleep, his thoughts were on Sammy.

When was he going to see him again?


	5. Out Of The Tower

"Today's the day," Meg said, not bothering with the chair she usually brought with her. Dean looked up from his place on the ground, doing crunches.  
"What?" he asked.  
"Rapunzel is finally getting out of her tower," she said with a smirk, "I've rescued you two princesses. Get your stuff, time to be social," she raised her voice, "You too, Castiel!"  Dean scrambled off the floor, holding his hands out to be cuffed. Meg laughed, shaking her head.  
"Oh Dean, so naughty," she teased, "I think I can trust you not to kill someone or run away, can't I?"  
"I wouldn't," Dean said.  
"Oh well, any relationship that's going to work is built on trust," she said, closing his cell door and releasing Cas from his cell, "Isn't that right, Castiel?"  
"Yes," Castiel replied, "But I still think that it is not in your best interest not to cuff Dean." 

Dean didn't reply, too busy taking in what his friend looked like. He _was_ pretty, Meg was right. Bright blue eyes, shapely lips, fair skin and a rather lanky frame. Despite his lanky frame, there was definite strength in his body. He was lean, like a cat. Dean grinned to himself, coming back to reality at Meg's words. 

"Well, we figure you two got along so well in solitary that we'll bunk you," she said, walking down the hall, her heel clicks echoing. It was a long walk out to the prison van, all of them sliding in as a burly man drove. 

"Morning, Boys," he drawled, looking over at Meg and tipping his cap, "Miz Meg, how nice to see you." Meg gestured to the man, a soft smile on her face.  
"Boys, this is Benny," she said, "Everyone calls him Lafitte. Everyone goes by last names here."  
"Sure do, Miz Meg," Benny continued, "It ain't so bad here. Anyone gives you any trouble, you come and tell me an I'll make sure no one gives you anymore trouble."  
"I have read that I should trust no one in prison and I should assert my dominance immediately," Cas said, looking rather doe-eyed. Benny laughed, glancing back at him through the rear view mirror, "Boy, you just a slip of a thing. Let Lafitte take care of you two. Make it easy on you."  
"I would listen to him, Boys," Meg said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "Benny's a good boy. Likes lookin after the new boys, keepin them out of harm's way."  
"Why thank you, Mix Meg. You sweeter than Louisiana sweet tea, darlin," he replied. Dean snorted- this Benny guy was trying too damn hard with Ice Queen Meg. Dean stared out the window, thinking of Sam.  
"Hey, when is visitation?" Dean asked Meg.  
"Hmm, let me check there sugar," she said, leafing through her clipboard, "That would be today, right after lunch. Enough time for a shower and something to eat."  
"Does Sam know?" he pressed. Meg nodded.  
"I gave him a call, said he'd be here." Dean nodded, looking back out the window.  
"And...my family," Cas said hesitantly, "Is anyone coming from my family?" Meg looked down at the paper, sighing.  
"Sorry, unicorn," she said, sighing, "I haven't been able to get a hold of them." Cas sighed, looking out the window again. Benny looked at them both through the rearview mirror.  
"Don't feel too bad, boys," Benny said, "I haven't had a visitor in...Miz Meg, how long has it been?"  
"About three months, Benny," she replied, scribbling across her pad. Benny nodded.  
"Bless her heart, Miz Meg knows everything about all of the younger set, but she still keeps tabs on me," he said with a smile. She chuckled.  
"I'll never give up on you," she replied, "Being my first patient at this prison; you're my favorite pet project."  Benny and her both laughed at that.  
"So, they let you drive?" Dean asked, looking interested.  
"We do everything here for ourselves," Benny replied, "We cook, we clean, we work, only thing we don't do is guard ourselves and give ourselves medical treatment. Well, not anymore."  
"You got a car garage?" Dean asked. Benny laughed.  
"No, we don't have nothin like that. But if you like fixin things, we got a maintenance crew. Maybe Miz Meg could get you in on that." 

They pulled up to the gates, driving in and stopping. Meg and Benny got out, opening the doors and herding Dean and Cas out. Dean felt uncomfortable, walking with the doctor as them men ogled her.  
"Isn't it dangerous for you to be here unguarded, Meg?" Cas asked, looking concerned. She laughed.  
"Don't worry about me, precious," she said, "None of these boys will ever come near me as long as I got Benny around. Isn't that right, Benny?"  
"Sure is," he said, "I got special privileges for restrainin an inmate that tried to attack Miz Meg. No one ever been that dumb again."  
Dean shifted uncomfortable as they walked in, trying to look as tough as possible. This was a crowd he couldn't look weak to. Meg stopped at the desk, handing over some papers before turning to them. 

"Alright, my sweet little princesses," she said with a smirk, "Benny here will watch after you your first couple days, get you settled in. After that, you're on your own. I'll see you two for group and individual tomorrow," she said turning and waving, "Keep an eye out for them, Southern Comfort." Benny tipped his hat again, nodding.  
"Will do, Miz Meg," he said, turning to face the two of them, "Alright boys. Follow me."


	6. Welcome To The Fold

"The warden has a sense of humor," Benny drawled, "But try not to piss him or the head guard off. They're nasty and not known for their observation of laws." Dean felt a cold shiver run up his spine as they passed a lanky guard with cold eyes.  
"Who was that?" Dean asked.  
"That would be Alastair, head guard," Benny replied, "Stay away from him, and don't get caught alone. It'll get real nasty real quick for you." He entered a large room with chest level walls, partitioning off small room. 

"You boys are bunkin next to me. Miz Meg likes to keep the young ones close to me, so I can keep tabs on 'em."  
"So, you're our babysitter?" Dean demanded. Benny smirked, getting in his face.  
"How old are you, boy?" he asked, looking him over.  
"Twenty five," Dean replied. Benny chuckled, tsking softly.  
"Just a baby," he said, shaking his head, "Here's the deal. Guard says count, you get your ass outta bed and stand outside your bunk. Stand at attention, no slouchin and no lookin at your feet- that means you, boy," Benny said, tapping Cas's shoulder, "You don't move until they say 'clear'. Make your bunk every morning. If you don't know how to do it military style, I'll teach you."  
"I know how," Dean said, rolling his shoulders. Benny nodded.  
"Breakfast, eat it fast and then throw it away- no food outside of the cafeteria. Then, we work until lunch. Same thing at lunch, then we work until dinner. After that, we're free. Sessions and all that happen whenever Miz Meg or someone comes and gets you. " 

"There are other therapists?" Cas asked. Benny nodded.  
"Sure are. There's Miz Meg, Mister Azazel and Mister Brady. Then, on hospital staff you got Ruby and Lilith. Both are some nasty bitches- known for givin asprin and stitches for shiv wounds. Don't get hurt here, and if you do- you come to me. The head guard of our unit is Dick. Everybody hates him, but try and stay out of his way. He's good at turning people against each other." 

"What do you do here?' Castiel asked. Benny grinned, spreading his arms.  
"I'm the head of kitchen staff, boys," he said with a smile, "I feed all of you. Stick with me, and you won't have much to be afraid of." Dean and Cas nodded.  
"But here's the thing. My protection comes cheap, boys, but every good deed has a price," he drawled. Cas looked him square in the eye and said, "Do you wish to make us your bitches?"  
Benny let out a loud howl, holding his side.  
"Boy, I like you," he said, wiping off his face, "Hell no, I don't want that. Thing is, I ain't got family really, so I ain't got commissary. You get me what I need from commissary; I get you what you need from anywhere else. Sound good to you?" Dean nodded, shaking his hand.  
"You got a deal," he said firmly. Benny clapped his shoulder, and then Cas's.  
"Welcome to the fold, brothers."


	7. Visitation

He hugged Sam hard, clinging to him a little longer than he should've. The guard cleared his throat, and they broke apart, sitting down across from each other. 

"So, Jesus man....how are you?" Sammy said. Dean sighed hard, rubbing his face.  
"I was in solitary for a month an a half. I didn't even know what day it was most days."  
"You were in solitary?" he demanded, looking angry, "Dean, they couldn't legally do that!"  
"Yeah well, they did, and it's over. Now I'm running with two guys and trying to keep my ass out of trouble," Dean replied. Sammy bit his lip, looking concerned.  
"Don't start," Dean muttered.  
"Doctor Masters says that you're doing good in your sessions," he said, trying to make conversation. Dean snorted a little.  
"She's a crazy bitch," Dean said, "Can you fucking believe some of the shit they diagnosed me with? I know you know, I signed all the waivers so that they could tell you."  
"I know man, some of them are way off... but I don't know. Some of them, not so much."  
"You sayin I'm crazy?" he demanded. Sam shook his head, "No way man. I'm just sayin, maybe take advantage of the fact that you get a free therapist for a year. And anyways, Meg says that if you behave yourself well enough, you could be eligible for 157 days good behavior time. Hell man, I might have you home for labor day." Dean smiled, feeling slightly comforted by that.  
"So with all that time, I got what...only a year left?" Dean said, a happy look on his face, "Thank fucking god. You stayin close to here?"  
"Yeah, just a half hour away. Got a little apartment for now. Looking for a job," he said hesitantly.  
"Dude, we agreed no working until you finished your degree!" Dean said. Sam sighed.  
"I can't not have a job, Dean. Not with you in here. You need money, and I need to pay rent. Come on man, it's just for a little bit." Dean rested his forehead on his hands, groaning.  
"That ain't your responsibility man, I'm supposed to be taking care of you."  
"And you are. Uh, did you forget that you lied your ass off and beat the shit out of a cop to protect me? Look, it's just for a year. I'll be fine." Dean was still upset, but time was running out.  
"I'll call you, okay?" Dean said, "Just...keep your phone on for me. You think you can handle that?"  
"Yeah, I got it," Sammy replied.  
"And no jobs," Dean said, pointing at him, "No jobs. Or I will beat you within an inch of your life."  
"Okay! No jobs! I got it."  
"Alright..." Dean said, watching as the guards started herding the inmates back into the locked part of the prison, "Be good, Sammy. Take care of yourself."  
"O-okay," Sammy said hesitantly, looking incredibly young and lost. Dean bit his lip, but he was shoved out of Sam's sight. 

"How was your lil visit, brother?" Benny asked as Dean entered the room. Castiel rose from his bed, his forehead wrinkled with concern.  
"You are very troubled. Did it not go well?" Cas asked. Dean shrugged, sitting on the bed hard.  
"Sometimes the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb," Benny said, rubbing the back of his neck, "Your brother will get over it."  
"Sam's...fine," Dean said, "He's found an apartment close and he's quitting school again to get a job...for my commissary."  
"That's very noble of him, you should be very proud," Castiel chipped in. Dean glared at Cas, his eyes hard.  
"Are you freaking kidding me?" he demanded, "That's my baby brother. I'm supposed to be taking care of him, not the other way around." Castiel looked completely confused.  
"But he is only trying to repay you," Castiel said, "I understand why he desires to do this." Benny rested a hand on Castiel's shoulder, shaking his head.  
"You the baby in your family. You don't understand where Winchester is coming from." Benny leaned close to Dean.  
"You can't wish you were on the outside. You're just gonna drive yourself crazy- us too. Get your head out of that." Benny straightened up, waving for them to follow, "Come on, boys. You're in the kitchen with me, we got a dinner to make."


	8. Offers

Dean found a weird sort of comfort in doing the menial kitchen duties. Benny always let Dean pick the music, but he was never allowed to change the station when Skynyrd was on. Peeling potatoes, washing vegetables, helping Cas in prep, it was relatively easy living. They had a certain chemistry; Benny, Cas and Dean. The other guys in the kitchen didn't really like that new guys had already taken the best jobs, but the kitchen had never ran so efficiently. Anyways, the way they figured it, the big guy with the fauxhawk had decent taste in music, and the guy with big blue eyes wouldn't ever tell on them when they took extra servings for themselves. It worked well enough for them. 

Once, Benny made the mistake of letting Cas choose the radio station. He ran over like a child on Christmas, turning the knob until the kitchen was filled with loud Christian music.  
"Milton!" Benny yelled, but got no response. Cas never got used to having to answer to his last name.  
"Turn off that pennsyltucky Jesus Christ babble right fuckin now, Cas!" Benny yelled. Cas looked upset, turning it back to Dean's favorite channel and returning to his spot, chopping vegetables. Dean left the huge pot, where he was currently stirring the 'poor man's gumbo', and stood next to Cas. He leaned down close to Cas's ear, whispering, "Just wait until Chapel on Sunday. Listen to that stuff then, okay?" Cas smiled to himself, nodding and chopping the vegetables with a renewed vigor. Dean chuckled, rolling his eyes and returning to the pot. Benny came over, throwing another handful of spices into the pot as he talked to Dean.  
"Blue eyes likes you," He said, nudging him, "Likes you real proper." Dean laughed, shaking his head.  
"We're friends. We were in solitary together, and now we bunk together. We're just friends..." Dean paused, "In fact, you and him are the best friends I've ever had that weren't blood." Benny chuckled, clapping his shoulder.  
"You too, brother," Benny said, before snapping his fingers and hollering at one of the other guys in the kitchen. Dean's mind wandered off as he worked, lingering on the session earlier that day with Meg. 

 

"Deano, you gotta stop fighting the therapy," Meg scolded, "We're never gonna get anywhere if you won't trust me." Dean snorted.  
"Bite me," Dean said, folding his arms. Meg looked positively dangerous, this close to the end of her patience. She folded her hands on the desk top complacently, smiling a cold, wicked smile.  
"Okay Dean. You wanna play hardball, I'll play hardball. I like it when my men put up a fight," she said softly, pulling out a large manila folder.  
"What's that?' he asked, his interest piqued. She didn't answer, looking over the folder. Dean was getting antsy, and just before he felt like he was gonna explode, she spoke.  
"So, sugar. Where's your dad?" she asked sweetly. Dean almost hissed, curling inside himself.  
"Left him."  
"Oh, I know that," she said, folding her hands, "I know why you left him too." Dean looked angry.  
"Oh yeah, why's that?" Dean said, jerking his chin. She smiled a sickly sweet smile, leaning forward.  
"Oh honeybunch, you have no idea what I know," she said, standing and coming around the front of desk, "Let's make a deal. You tell me what Daddy Dearest did to you, and I'll arrange for a private visit for you and Sammy. One day a week, here in my office. We'll call it familial therapy. Wanna talk now?"  
He asked for time to think about it. He didn’t want to talk about John, he didn't want to talk about his childhood- but if it would get him extra visits with Sammy...he'd do anything. 

He was snapped back to reality when Benny smacked the back of his head.  
"Where's your head at, brother?" he asked, squinting. Dean shrugged, rolling his shoulders.  
"Just worried about Sammy. You know, brother shit." Benny nodded, whistling for Cas.  
"Help Milton with the veggies, Winchester," Benny commanded, "Milton, make sure he doesn't cut off a finger." Cas nodded seriously, before looking at Dean. 

"You have been troubled since your meeting with Meg," he said, cutting up a carrot. Dean nodded.  
"She has offered you something in return for cooperation," Cas added, "She has done the same to me." Dean looked at Cas, looking worried.  
"What did she offer you?" Dean asked. Cas looked at the carrots, frowning.  
"She said that she'd get me private visits with the brother I am closest too," he said softly, "But I truly do not want to talk about the things she wants me to talk about."  
"Me neither," Dean said, "She promised me visits with Sam." Cas nodded sadly, scooping up a handful of carrots in his long fingers and dropping them into the bowl next to them.  
"You're going to do it, aren't you?" Cas asked, "You will try to lie, and when she calls your bluff, you'll give her what she wants."  
"You make it sound so pathetic," Dean snapped, "I'll try to play her, but if I can't, I'll do what I have to. Won't you?"  
"No," Cas replied, "I'm just going to tell the truth. Why fight?"  
"Why fight?" Dean demanded, "I've been here almost 4 months, and I thought it'd break me. But guess what? I'm still fighting, Cas. You should fight too."  
"Why should I fight against an immovable object?" Cas asked, "I can't win. I have no choice but to play their game."  
"You always have a choice!" Dean said, grabbing his shoulder, "Are you freaking kidding me? You're a grown man. Don't let everything control you! Grow a fucking backbone!" Cas nodded quietly, turning back to the carrots. Dean didn't know why he bothered- Cas was as bad as Sam was about fighting when it wasn't necessary.


	9. Half of the Three Musketqueers

Cas and Dean were walking back to their room, leaving Benny to do the food order in peace, without Cas's incessant questions. It wasn't that Cas was dumb, it was quite the opposite- he wanted to contribute more to show his appreciation, but Benny wasn't in the mood and Dean was playing damage control. They were stopped by a few guys in the rec room, three of them crowding Dean and Cas. 

"If it ain't half of the three musketqueers," the biggest guy said, "Where's your daddy at, boys? I thought he never let his pets out of his sight."  
Dean gritted his teeth. Good behavior.  
Home for Christmas with Sammy. 

"If there are three off us, and two of us are here, we would be two thirds of the musketqueers...and I am almost positive that is not the proper term," Cas said, looking confused.  
"Cas," Dean cautioned, only to be cut off by the bigger guy again.  
"You retarded, boy?" he demanded, closing in on Cas harder now, Dean forgotten.  
"Lay off him," Dean demanded. The three guys started laughing.  
"You protecting your pretty boyfriend, princess?" the guy demanded, "I'm gonna bust that pretty mouth of yours-" 

The man had his hand cocked back to punch Dean, but before Dean could react, Cas was in front of him, grabbing the huge man by the face and slamming him backwards onto the ground. Dean almost jumped out of his skin- the guy was huge, and Cas...he wasn't that big. And yet he just slammed this guy's head of the fucking ground like it was nothing. He stood, looking at the other two, who were around their buddy. The guy sat up, clutching the back of his head which was now streaming blood. 

"You two are fucking dog meat!" The leader said, the two others trying close them in. Cas turned to Dean, a serious look on his face.  
"Get out of here, Dean," he commanded, "Don't get in trouble." 

Dean moved out of the line of fire, running for the kitchen as fast as he could. He skidded to a halt in front of Benny's office door, huffing.  
"Benny," he gasped, "Cas...guys have him cornered..." Benny was out of his chair in a second, grabbing Dean's shoulder.  
"Where? Now!" he yelled.  
"Rec room," he replied, following Benny closely. Benny plowed into the room, tearing both guys off of Cas, who had been holding his own as well as could be expected. His face was pretty massed up, And Dean threw Cas's arm over his shoulder.  
"Get him to the kitchen!" Benny commanded, and Dean obeyed, heading straight back to the kitchen. He was stopped on his way though, by Alastair. 

"Hmm, now what happened here?" he asked, eying Dean like he was a side of beef. Dean swallowed a little.  
"Uh, these guys jumped Ca-Milton. Lafitte told me to take him here."  
Alastair nodded, still looking intimidating.  
"Take him down to the medical room. I'm sure we can take care of him better than the kitchen head can," he said, "And see me in my office after you're done there, won't you kiddo?" Dean swallowed, nodding. He drug Cas down to the medical room, only to be greeted by the short brunette nurse. 

"Uh oh, looks like someone got themselves bashed up pretty good," she said, reaching out to touch Cas. Dean jerked him away, not liking the way Ruby looked at him. She looked at Dean, a hand on her hip.  
"You wanna let me touch him so I can treat him there, big boy?" she demanded, "Put him on a cot and get out. You're already crossing the line by being here and uninjured." Dean did as he was told, backing out as he heard her yell, "Lilith, I'm gonna need some asprin and stuff for stitches!" 

Fucking hell, Benny was right. He swallowed shallowly, heading for Alastair's office. 

 

Dean came back to the room, looking pale and trembling. Cas sat up on his cot, looking at Dean worriedly.  
"What did Alistair have to say?" he asked.  
"Nothing," Dean said, his voice shushed.  
"Benny doesn't know that you had to see Alistair," Cas said.  
"Don't tell him," Dean said sharply, "Don't talk about it." Cas nodded slowly, laying back down.  
"Get some rest, Dean," he said quietly. Dean had already rolled over, under the covers.


	10. Session 2

"Ready to talk now?" Meg asked, raising an eyebrow, "And don't bother lying, sugartits. I'll know." Dean sighed, nodding.  
"Can we just...take it slow?" he asked, looking at Meg pleadingly. She nodded.  
"Dean, I'm not here to hurt you- I'm your therapist. I'm pushing for you to talk so I can help you. We can go slow, but I'm not going to put up with you trying to fool me, okay?"  
Dean nodded slowly, breathing deep.  
"What...do you want me to talk about?" he said. Meg tapped the pen to her lip.  
"Tell me about your mother, Dean." 

"My mom...God, Mom. I loved mom so much- still do. When she died, that's when everything went wrong. Dad went psycho, we moved away, never staying in the same place... I miss my mother. She was the perfect woman. Strong, sweet, could cook, could make a house...could probably break your jaw if you pissed her off enough. Dad said she almost broke his wrist once, and she'd fractured a few bones in his hand too. Dad always thought that was the funniest thing."  
"Okay Dean," Meg said soothingly, "Tell me your first memory. Just, let it come to you."  
"My mom. she was kissing me goodnight. Tucking me in. She was crying, but she was smiling. I don't know why," he said softly. Meg nodded, writing down something on her paper.  
"Now Dean, you seem bothered by that memory. Let's talk about your happiest memory. What's your happiest memory?"  
"Sammy," Dean said immediately, "So many memories of Sammy. Fourth of July with Sammy, Sammy's first words, Sammy's first steps...Sammy. Sammy is my happiest memory."  
"Do you remember Sammy's first words?" she asked. Dean nodded.  
"My name, no, and yes," Dean replied, chuckling, "That pissed my Dad off so bad. Sam didn't say "Dada" or Daddy" until he was 2, closer to three really."  
"And did it bother you that Sammy knew your name long before his father's?" she asked.  
"No," Dean said, shrugging, "I felt like Sammy's Dad. Still do, most of the time. He knew my name because I was there."  
"And your father was not?"  
"No," Dean snapped, "He was too busy trying to get himself killed or kill the thing that killed Mom." Meg wrote some more, nodding.  
"You said a thing killed your mother- wasn't it an arsonist?" she pressed.  
"Dad said that something weird happened, and that we were next. I never questioned him on that."  
"So you accepted his word without question?"  
"Yeah, he's my dad." 

Meg stopped her line of questioning, writing quickly. She set down her pen, looking up again. 

"Okay sugar," she said, her voice still calm and soothing, "I'm gonna ask you to really reach now, okay?" He nodded, not liking her tone.  
"What is your first conscious memory of yourself?" she asked. Dean looked up, confused.  
"What?" he demanded. She sighed.  
"I'm asking- what is your first conscious memory of yourself- maybe sitting in your room, playing with your toys on your own. I'm asking for a conscious memory of you, by yourself. As a singular person."  
Dean thought hard. His first memory of him, just...by himself? He didn't think he had one. He struggled, looking at Meg helplessly.  
"Maybe...I was 13? I stole my Dad's skinmag- it was a Playboy. Anna Nicole Smith on the cover." Meg coughed a little.  
"Your first memory of you being alone is you masturbating to an Anna Nicole Smith spread of Playboy?" she asked. He nodded sheepishly. She sighed, shrugging.  
"At least you had good taste," she said, writing, "Okay, let's try another one. Dean, did you have a favorite toy as a child?"  
"Um...I really liked this one stuffed dog my mom gave me when I was a baby," he said. She smiled encouragingly, "Good good, and how long did you have it?"  
"Until the fire," he replied. She set down her pen.  
"Dean, are you telling me you never had a favorite toy after that?" she asked. Dean shook his head.  
"No, I didn't have another toy really after that," he replied, "I had a few legos, and a few army men. But that was really it- my dad hated all that clutter." Meg continued to scribble notes furiously. When she had finished, she set down her pen once more.  
"Last question of the day, Dean," she said, "What is your first conscious memory of your father?"  
Dean bit his lip. He was terrified of this question, terrified of how horrible he'd sound.  
"I was...at t-ball," he said quietly, "He and my mom got into an argument. My mom went to sit in the car, but I was afraid she was going to leave. I dropped my mitt and started running towards the car, but my dad caught me by the back of my shirt and shoved my mitt back into my hand. He said that I have to finish what I start. I was still so scared though...and that night, Dad left. I don't know where he went or how long he was there; I just remember them yelling and him leaving."  
Meg nodded slowly, looking over her paper." Well, you did good sugar," she began, "We're gonna take this nice and slow, okay? I'll call Sam, find a day for him to come in for our session," she said standing and smoothing her skirt, "Can you send Castiel down, please?"  
"Sure," he said, his body and mind feeling exhausted. He wanted to fall over...talking about his feelings truly were draining to him. He hoped Cas would fare better.


	11. Chapter 11

"Afternoon, sweetheart," Meg said sweetly as Castiel shuffled in, looking rather contrite.   
"Good afternoon, Meg," he said flatly, taking his seat. Meg didn't look too pleased with the greeting she got, snapping her fingers. 

"Castiel, now’s not the time to disassociate," she said firmly, "We have to talk today, your brother is coming tomorrow and we have some serious work to do with him."   
"I don't want to see Balthazar," Cas said blankly, "I don't want to see any of them." Meg clicked her tongue.   
"Now you and I both know that's just not true, don't we?" she said, scribbling a little, "Balthazar knows that what you did was an accident. And you weren't prosecuted for the death of your other brother, so your family knows you're innocent."   
"They only know I'm not guilty," Castiel replied, "Balthazar is forgiving. He was once a criminal, and he is willing to forgive. So is....so was, Gabriel."   
"Balthazar was a criminal?" Meg asked, "He seems much too smooth for any of that."   
"He and Gabriel often got into criminal mischief," Castiel said, "They were always good men, they just liked to cause...trouble."   
"Why did you attack your brother, Castiel?" Meg asked, leaning forward, "I've skipped around this question for months, my sweet little unicorn. It's time to talk real talk." 

"I..." Cas began, "I thought he was trying to hurt me. I thought he was going to betray me."   
"Why would you think that? You said so yourself, he's a good man, and you love him dearly."   
"I...my older brothers..." he began, trying to sort out his thoughts, "They all fight. Most of them,...they've hurt me. I was afraid that Balthazar would too."   
"Balthazar never wanted to hurt you, and you say you understand this now- but Alastair says that you looked a little upset that your brothers Uriel and Raphael plan on visiting. Any reason why?" she asked, leaning back.   
"I fear them...for what they have done," Cas replied, looking up with a fearful expression on his face, "You know that my family has suffered much." 

"Oh yes," Meg said, looking over the folder in her lap, "Your sister disappeared, Gabriel is dead, Hmm...your custody has been in your eldest brother's hands. And you and him have a history of trouble. Sugar, I ain't tellin you you should be excited to see them, but I just wanna know that you're not gonna have a meltdown or try to kill someone- and that includes yourself."   
"I have to watch over Dean," he said firmly, "I won't kill myself." Meg made a face, nodding.   
"You and Dean are close?" she asked.   
"Dean is...different. He and Benny. They are kind to me."   
"You aren't used to kindness?"   
"Not from people who don't know me," he replied, "They often call me retarded. They're cruel."   
"Benny and Dean are not."   
"They are good to me. Dean will not say it, but I know he tends to me. I have often fallen asleep at the desk in our room and found myself tucked into bed in the morning. He makes sure that I have food I prefer when we cook. He defers to me when choosing jobs. Benny is kind, always patient in his explanations of things. He is very fatherly."   
"Benny was a father, so it doesn't surprise me," Meg said, "So you feel responsible to keep yourself alive because of their kindness?"   
"I do," Cas replied, "I cannot atone for my sins with my brothers. But here, I can. If I die, I will never have atoned. I'll go to hell." 

"Castiel, we've talked about this," Meg said patiently, "Your 'sins' will not send you to hell. This is not about punishment, your incarceration. Your family has enough money to have only given you house arrest. This is about healing, rehabilitation. You are in my care, and what did I tell you?"   
"When I am in your care, I am safe and forgiven."   
"That's right, sugar," Meg said, shuffling her papers, "And that being said, I will be with you in your visitation with Uriel and Raphael. Your trust is valued, and in return I will not abandon you in your time of need."   
"That means a lot to me," Castiel said softly, looking down at his hands. Meg bit her lip, opening her desk drawer. 

"Honey drop, Clarence?" she asked, holding out a small candy to him. His eyes lit up, taking the candy and popping it in his mouth with a grin.   
"Let's talk about something else, so you can be in a good frame of mind when you leave," Meg said sweetly, "Are you enjoying that book on bees I got for you?"   
"Very much, yes," Cas said, his eyes alight with joy, "Did you know that the comb is originally made in perfect cylinders, but the weight of the honey being stored in them bends it into the traditional hexagonal shape we associate with honey combs?"   
"I didn't know that," Meg said with a smile, "Tell me more."


	12. Chapter 12

Dean peeled the potatoes in front of him distractedly, staring at the clock. Castiel had been gone for almost 2 hours. Cas was never gone that long for his sessions. Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when Benny rested a hand on his shoulder. 

"I'm worried too," Benny said, "But bein worried ain't gonna get him here any faster, boy." Dean nodded, sighing. It was getting close to time for visitation, and Cas had said earlier about being scared of his visitation with his brothers. Dean was confused- Cas always spoke reverently of his brothers, but these two seemed to scare the living bejeezus out of him. He rolled his shoulders, the tension pinching his nerves.   
Only a half hour until he saw Sammy.   
Benny came over, picking up a knife and peeling a potato with practiced ease. 

"You wanna talk to me, brother?" he said quietly, picking up another potato. Dean shrugged.   
"Therapy sucks. Cas being gone sucks. Cas's visitation sucks," he muttered. Benny nodded.   
"Cas seemed excited in the van when you first got here to see his family," he drawled, "Sudden change of heart?"   
"I don't think so," Dean replied, "Its the two brothers that are actually coming. He seems...I dunno. Scared."   
"Cas is a strong boy. He'll be just fine," Benny said comfortingly, "Now how about you? Therapy not go well?"   
"It went fine," Dean said, "I just...I hate that Meg makes me talk about my family."   
"You sure do like talkin about Sammy," Benny replied.   
"I mean my parents."   
"Coupla down home asshole, brother?"   
"My dad was. Not my mom," Dean said, "My mom..." Benny set down the knife, resting a hand on his shoulder.   
"I can tell you love your momma boy," he said, shaking his head, "No...you loved her. She's dead, ain't she?"   
"Yeah," Dean said quietly.   
"Mine too, brother," Benny replied, resuming his peeling, "Died while I was in here. Didn't even get to say goodbye."   
"Me neither," Dean said quietly. 

They heard Cas's quiet, shuffling footsteps behind, them, turning to face him. Dean almost laughed out loud at the blissful look on his face, a candy bulging in his cheek.   
"So it went well?" Benny asked. Cas shook his head, looking slightly forlorn, "It was quite unpleasant. But Meg did give me some honey drops, so I am quite pleased." Dean and Benny laughed, parting so that Cas could stand between them and help them finish the potatoes. 

"So, you feeling better about seeing your brothers, boy?' Benny asked casually.   
"No," Cas said quietly, "But Meg assured me that she would be there with me while they were there."   
"If you're having your visit in the main room, I'll be there too," Dean said, "So you won't be alone. Promise."   
"Thank you Dean," Cas said quietly. They peeled in comfortable silence, Benny moving on to chopping the potatoes up and dropping them in the large pot of boiling water. 

"Benny, I have a question," Cas said from his seat on the counter. Benny nodded, his large back facing them.   
"Ask away," Benny said, moving to the large sauce-pot and dipping a spoon inside.   
"Meg said that you were once a father," Cas began,"How were you only once a father, and no longer are?" 

Dean watched the big man's shoulders tighten, his whole body tensing.   
"I was once a father," he said quietly, "But my lil girl was taken from me. I'm not a father anymore. But I am a granpappy." He turned to face them, setting down the spoon. 

"My daughter was the sweetest little thing. Her name was Nora," he started, "Nora was my pride and joy, and when she had baby Lizzie, well. They were my whole world, my precious baby and her baby.   
She was out late one night, walking home from work. Some guy tried to rob her, but sweet lil thing didn't have anything on her- she was between paychecks, she'd just borrowed her rent from me. The guy didn't want any witnesses."   
"Benny," Dean said quietly, only to be cut off by Benny's hand.   
"They knew who did it. So I found him, and I beat him to death. He took away my Nora, he left my Lizzie without her Momma. He deserved it. And In the fit of rage...they police said I tore out his throat, drank his blood. I don't remember that, but seeing his body made it hard not to believe. That's why Lizzie's daddy brings her up every six months to see me. She's nineteen now, looks just like her momma."   
"She is not angry with you?" Cas asked. Benny shook his head, turning back to the food, "No, suppose my sweet little Lizzie don't.. she knows I did it for her Momma. " He sighed softly, stirring the pot, "June 25th, and Christmas. Every year. She woulda came more, but she moved back home with her Daddy in Louisiana after her Momma died."   
No one quite knew what to say, the room silent as the intercom buzzed. 

"All inmates for visitation, report to the hall." Cas slid off the counter, looking apprehensive. Dean reached out and patted Benny's shoulder, biting his lip.   
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. Benny shook his head.   
"Don't be, brother. My Nora's singing with angels, and her little girl is happy, healthy and well. That's all a man like me can ask for. Now git, you got a brother to visit."


	13. Chapter 13

Dean sat down heavily at the table, waiting for Sam to come in. He watched as Castiel met with two men, both black- what the hell, Cas is what as the driven snow, are those his brothers?- and followed Meg into a private room. Cas searched him out, their eyes meeting for a second.   
"I got you," he mouthed to the other man, who nodded but did not look comforted. He was ushered out of sight, and suddenly Sammy was right in front of him.   
"Hey," he said with a smile, "You wanna sit down there, or are you just gonna stand?"   
"Dean," Sam began, sighing, "Look...I don't know how to say this...."   
"What?" Dean demanded, looking concerned, "Did someone..."   
"No! No one died, Dean," Sam said, "Well..."   
He stepped aside revealing s familiar face.   
Allyn.   
He thought she was dead, or something horrible had happened to her- one day she was there, in North Carolina, dating Sam and watching movies at their place, getting ready for prom in his bathroom, and the next she was gone. He wanted to yell at her. He wanted to grab her and hug her like he hugged Sammy. But instead...  
"Whoa Allyn, when did you sprout tits?"  
Allyn let out a laughed, her and Sam sitting down quickly across from him. He grinned; glad to see she was okay but seething beneath the surface. She just fucking disappeared; doesn't she know how much they both worried?   
"I heard prison's a pain in the ass," she said, winking and laughing. He folded his arms, grumbling.   
"Low blow, gingerella. Say hi to your wicked stepmonster for me?" he replied, winking back. She looked irritated, retorting, "Yeah well, at least I'm not anyone's bitch."   
"Yeah well, at least I didn't disappear for three years without telling anyone who cared about me where I was going or what the fuck even happened!"   
"Well you didn't have a fuckin crazy ass abusive mom on your heels who would've taken out or used anyone to get to you and your brother!"   
Dean glared at her, huffing, "Well, you wouldn't have either if you had just told me!" He turned to Sam, glaring, "Did you know about that?"   
Sam blushed, mumbling, "Uhh...sort of?"   
Dean rolled his eyes, letting it go for the moment, "I only have a half hour to talk to you two, so let's save that argument for when I actually get the hell outta here." Allyn looked like she didn't want to let it go, but she agreed.   
"Fine, what's prison like? I heard you have to see a psychologist?" she said, trying to turn the conversation back to Dean. He groaned a little.   
"Gee, thanks for going straight to my least favorite thing. Yeah, I have to see Doctor Meg Masters, who puts the 'psycho' back into 'psychotherapist'," he replied, running his fingers through his hair. She nodded sympathetically.   
"Aw damn. Well that sucks.. when do you get out?"   
"If I'm "a good little boy' as meg puts it, I might be out in just 13 months instead of the full 18. So hey, if you don't disappear before then, wanna have a thing at our place to celebrate my rehabilitation and release into society?" he asked. She smiled, nodding.   
"If i don't then yeah definitely...it's not like I plan on it."   
" Didn't figure you did, that's why I said if."   
"So you better be a good little boy, Dean Winchester," she teased. He smirked, rolling his eyes.   
"Oh shut up. Keep your narrow ass outta trouble too."   
"My ass isn't narrow!"   
"It's narrow compared to gigantor's over there," Dean said with a chuckle, "Fine, next time i'll call it big and you can punch me for it." Allyn raised an eyebrow.   
"What, have you been staring at your brother's ass, Dean? I mean I get you were in solitary but there are social limits, Dean..."   
"I lived with the guy, I raised him- hell, you know how many times I've wiped that ass when he was in diapers? I know how big his ass is and I always want it at least 10 feet from my person at all times!"   
"Hey hey I was joking! Calm down."   
"Sorry, a little on edge lately. Prison does wonders for your nerves..."  
"I can imagine, Jesus fucking Christ..."  
"No, you can't- and I wouldn't want you to. You know how they say about prison rape in jail? Haven’t experienced it, but for a bunch of guys who rape other guys, they're pretty fuckin homophobic.."   
"Well shit, remind me to never go to jail."   
"I will kick your ass into a new fucking ethnicity if you- either of you- ever go to jail. You do something bad? Tell me and i'll take care of it."   
"Damn Dean I didn't know you cared so much... And you know how bad of a temper I've got so at least you'll have something to keep you busy."   
"I don't care that much kid," he denied, clearly lying, "I just know that neither of your delicate sensibilities would do well in here." He laughed, "Don't get me locked up for life, okay? All i ask."   
"Delicate sensibilities? That's rich..but ok no life sentences," she said with a grin.   
"Gee, thanks. Anyways, not nothin for nothin- I made a few friends, so I'm already doing better than I did in high school."   
"Hey that's great! At least you got friends."   
"Yeah, A guy who I thought was a ghost and Some big Louisiana po'boy who's got a crush on my doctor."   
"Now that doesn't sound too bad. What do you guys do here?"  
"If you laugh I'll kill you...I work in the kitchen. The three of us do. Making food, that sort of stuff. It's kinda nice. And then there's therapy, and group. Most of the time I'm up to my elbows in food. More than anything, I just wait for visitation. Then I get to see Sammy. And now, I guess I'll see you occasionally. Are you guys a thing again?"   
Sam and Allyn looked at each other, rather puzzled.   
"I dunno we haven't really talked about it," Sam replied, shrugging. Dean nodded.   
"If it means anything, I think it'd be good for the both of you. How’s your little brother, Flyn? He stayin out of trouble?" Allyn nodded, pushing her hair out of her face.   
"Yeah he's good and if he weren't then i wouldn't be here. He's a senior now and god I feel old."   
Dean laughed. " I know the feeling, sister. I feel ancient- last time I saw you, you were basically in pigtails. Now you're all grown up."  
"Well you're going to have a fit if you see Flyn. He's more grown up than I am," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "But he is such a twat." Dean laughed, raising an eyebrow.   
"If? Little brothers are always the biggest twats on the planet. Just ask Sammy," he said, grinning at Sam, who was uncharacteristically silent. Sammy didn't really respond, so he looked back to Allyn.   
"If because I don't know if I'll disappear again. They really are," she replied, laughing and looking a bit somber suddenly, " I'm just glad Diane isn't chasing after us anymore." Dean nodded sympathetically. He wasn't sure how much Sam had told her, but he knew the feeling.   
"Yeah, me too," Dean paused, looking concerned, "Hey, if you end up running again, can you just....find a way to let us know you're okay? We're used to people dying when they disappear...and I know I'd like it if I knew you were still breathing."  
"Yeah of course," she sighed, looking contrite, "I'm sorry i didn't let you know last time. I was 18 and scared and stupid..." Dean stopped her, smiling sympathetically.   
"No, trust me- I've made that mistake too. 18 is a really fucking shitty age. Just, if you run, leave a crumb trail for us."  
"Don't worry, I will...but I don't know how easy it'll be." Dean smirked, laughing a little.   
"Oh, don't make it too easy. We like a challenge." Allyn laughed, looking happy.   
"I missed you, Dean."   
"I missed you too, Allyn. No one insults me the way you do."  
"Not even the other inmates?"  
"They try really hard, but nothing will ever beat you," Dean replied with a grin. Allyn laughed. "So they don't call you a bowlegged ken doll?" He shook his head.   
"No. They seem to prefer calling me princess, and saying," he lowered his voice even more than usual, imitating a Midwestern accent, “I got a purdy mouth. It's like they're trying to live up to every jailhouse stereotype." Allyn burst into hysterical laughter, bracing her hand on the table.  
"Oh lord. Well, you do have those green princess eyes..." she said through her laughs. Dean cracked a grin, laughing himself.   
"Guess I do. Sam does too, but I guess you can't see them through all that fuckin hair."   
"True," she replied, looking a bit concerned about her next question, "So, what'd you do to get in here? Rob a grave or something?" He rubbed the back of his neck.   
"Pretty close. It was a routine salt and burn. We got caught, and a cop made the mistake of putting his hands on Sammy," he shrugged, " No one touches Sammy but me. And, well, you, probably."  
"I was gonna say," she said with a smirk, "So that's what you've been doing for the last three years? Burning corpses?"  
"Not exclusively. I also set a couple of houses on fire. We've been hunting. You weren't there anymore, we had no reason to stay local."   
"So you're the arsonist I've been hearing about on the news! What have you been hunting? Anything fun?"  
"That would be me. I give myself joy by setting fires," he replied with a smirk, "We cleared out a vamp nest not too long ago, a few shifters. We did have fun with a shritga." He shuddered, shritgas were never something he liked, "Hate those things. Other than that, it's been hauntings and the like. What about you, kid? I heard you got into...what is it? "Bear wrestling"?" Allyn chuckled, looking a bit guilty.   
"That's what I told Sam. Truth is, I ran into a rugaru about a year ago and it got a little nasty..."   
"Rugaru? Nasty things. You oughta be more careful. I already told Sammy no hunts, but if you decide to go on one, you need to take him. He'll have your back."   
"I let it feed and it was an accident and the only accident I've made so far on a hunt. You don't need to worry too much about me. I dunno, Dean. Taking Sam might be too much for the poor moose."   
Dean folded his arms, still looking concerned. "Accidents happen, that's fine- but I'm gonna worry about you, brat. I've been worried about you since the day you walked into our apartment god knows how long ago." He chuckled, glancing over at Sam, "Probably. But sheer size counts for something, even if it's curled in the fetal position."  
"I'm right here, you two!" Sam said petulantly, breaking a grin. They both laughed as Allyn continued.   
"So what has he been up to? Whenever i ask he always replies with oh you know this and that and it gets really annoying after a while ya know?"  
"Oh I hear you. Other than hunting with me, he was in college for a bit. Well, actually- he was in college for about 4 years. He'd go on hunts with me on weekends and all that jazz. But then...this happened. You know. He spent most of the time pining after you, I'm willing to bet."   
The 2 minute buzzer sounded and Dean's face fell. He looked at them both apologetically, standing.   
"Half hour never seems like enough, does it?" he said, hugging Allyn. He leaned down and whispered in her ear.   
"Take care of him for me." She nodded, giving him a little squeeze.   
"Don't drop the soap," she teased, her smirk not reaching her eyes. Dean laughed, nodding. He embraced Sammy, who clung to him a little harder than he expected.   
"Be careful, Dean," he said, "I'll see you tomorrow. Meg called."   
Dean nodded, giving them one more smile before the guard came over to herd him back in.   
"Don't be a stranger!" he yelled.   
"Calm down, inmate!" a guard yelled.   
"I'm calm, jeeze," he snapped, turning away as the couple waved goodbye. He was so happy to see Allyn again, but he was still worried- Cas hadn't been with the general public during visitation, and he still wasn't out.  
What was up with that?


	14. Chapter 14

Cas was just as freaked out as Dean thought he was- in fact, more so. When he saw Uriel and Raphael's impassive faces, he couldn't help but feel he was about to walk into a lion's den. He looked over at Dean. The guy mouthed "I've got you" and it gave Cas comfort-but he knew that it wasn't going to do him much good. Not with the way Meg was herding him into a private room. 

They all sat down, Meg's pleasant smile and demeanor feeling plastic, fake. 

"Uriel, Raphael. It was very kind of you to visit Cas," she said, "Wasn't it, Cas?"   
"Yes," Cas said, nodding and looking down at the table, "It was. Thank you." Uriel snorted.   
"We are not here for a visit," Uriel said, "We're here to check on his progress." Meg smiled, the pleasant expression looking cold and mean to Cas.   
"Naturally," she replied, opening her folder, "Castiel's paranoid Delusions have grown better, and cognition is well on it's way to normal levels," she said. Raphael rolled his eyes. 

"His confession. Has he confessed yet?" Raphael demanded. Meg raised a perfectly manicured finger to her temple, looking completely unamused.   
"Raphael, I think we've had this conversation enough times that you would remember it," she said, her voice hard and clipped, "Patient Confidentiality." Raphael nodded, turning on Cas. Cas could feel his cold stare, sinking down in his seat. 

"Castiel, did you stab our brother Balthazar?" he demanded. Castiel nodded, playing with the hem of his shirt.   
"I am sorry for that," he said softly.   
"And Gabriel, did you kill him?"   
"No!" Cas yelled, sitting up straight, "I would never hurt Gabriel. I told you who did it! I told you it was-"   
"Enough," Uriel said, looking hard at Cas, "And what about Anna? Where is our sister?" Cas looked heartbroken, holding his hands out pleadingly.   
"If I knew where Anna was, I would tell you! But I swear, I know nothing of what happened to her!"   
"Gentlemen," Meg said warningly, only to be ignored.   
"What do you know?" Raphael demanded, slamming his hands down on the table. There was a strange look in Cas's eyes as he leaned in close to Raphael's face.   
"I know what you did," he growled, "I know what you did to Anna and Gabriel. You won't blame me, not anymore. I don't want to lie anymore!" Raphael looked furious, Uriel standing next to him and shoving his finger in his face.   
"Listen to me well, Castiel," he said, "Our family motto, what is it?"   
"Obediemus dubie," he whispered, his face going white. Meg stood, shoving her arm between the two men and her patient. 

"Sit. Now," she commanded. They did as she said, glaring at her.   
"I will not allow you to harass my patient," she said firmly, "Castiel has a choice to end this meeting now. Castiel?" Castiel was staring blankly at the wall.   
"Obey without question," he said clearly. Meg looked at him confused.   
"Castiel, do you want to continue this meeting?" she asked, He nodded slowly, his face blank. She looked back at Uriel and Raphael, angry. She had hoped Cas would refuse to continue.   
"Alright Clarence," she said softly. Uriel began questioning him again. 

"You will get better."   
"I will get better," Cas said softly.   
"You will not speak of things you do not understand," Uriel continued, "You will not reveal any information that would be a detriment to the Milton Family. You will not speak out against your brothers. Do you understand?" 

Meg watched the man with disgust, the damage of the meeting already done. She was going straight to the warden with this shit. Her patient- her sweet, naïve patient- was being tormented right now, and she did not have the legal standing to stop it.   
"I understand," he said softly, looking close to tears. Meg bit her lip, resting a soft hand, on his forearm. 

"That's enough, gentlemen," she commanded, "If this continues-"   
"Sit down and shut up, whore," Raphael commanded, "He is our brother. We will speak to him howsoever we choose."   
"Excuse me?" she demanded, standing, "You will not speak to either of us-"   
She was cut off by Cas's grip on her arm, looking at her pleadingly.   
"Don't," he said softly, "This will only end...unpleasantly." Raphael looked satisfied, smirking.   
"Listen to your patient, Doctor. Or I'll have your head on a silver platter." 

Meg couldn't help it- she was intimidated by these two powerful men. One powerful man was a cakewalk to her. Two? Not so much. She sat down quietly, observing Castiel.   
"I will not disobey my commands, despite my incarceration," he said quietly, looking at his hands, "Is that all?"   
"Not quite," Raphael said, "I don't want you working in the kitchen anymore. It's below a man of our standing." Castiel looked up at him, shoving his chin out defiantly.   
"I like working in the kitchen. I have made friends," Cas said. Raphael laughed in his face.   
"Friends? You mean criminals that hope to fool you into believing they care, in exchange for political and monetary favors? You can't make friends, Castiel. You are a Milton. We don't have friends. We have family." Castiel looked wounded, as if he'd never thought of the possibility of someone using him. Uriel barked out a laugh.   
"Really, little brother? Did you truly believe that you could find friendship here?" he demanded, "That's completely stupid. You have fallen so far."   
Castiel's chin was tucked neatly in his chest, his shoulders shaking a little. Meg noticed that the time was beyond up for visitation, standing and touching Castiel's shoulder. 

"Visitation is over," she said firmly, "This meeting is over." Castiel stood, shuffling in front of Meg and out the door, away from his brothers.   
Meg escorted him to the main hall, her hand resting gently between his shoulders, trying to comfort him. 

"Clarence," she said softly, "Are you going to be alright, sugar?" He nodded numbly. She reached into her coat pocket, handing him a honey drop. He looked at it and back at her with a sad look.   
"Thank you," he said softly. She nodded.   
"Castiel, your brothers are not good people," she said, "You are not stupid, and you are not being used. Believe in yourself, and I'll see you for our session tomorrow, okay?" He nodded, shuffling slowly back towards his room.   
She bit her lip, running her fingers through her hair. She hoped that Benny and Dean would watch him for her.


	15. Chapter 15

"Allyn, eh?" Benny said, mashing the potatoes in the pot, throwing a glance back at Dean, "And she's your brother's girl, is she?" Dean nodded, smiling a little to himself.   
"Yeah, him and Allyn are really good together," Dean said, prepping the trays for serving. Benny leaned against the stove, wiping his hands on his apron.   
"And you never had the urge for a taste of her peach pie?" he asked. Dean looked insulted.   
"No! She's like the little sister I never asked for. She's annoying and a pain in my ass, and she fucking disappeared on us. One day she was making out with Sammy on our couch and and getting ready for prom in my bathroom, the next she's fucking gone," Dean paused for a minute, looking bothered, "It wasn't until I started scoping out her old house that Sammy finally told me why she woulda bugged out. I swear, I see that bitch, I'll break my strict 'no hurting women' rule." Benny chuckled, shaking his head.   
"Well, at least Sammy found her again, right?" he asked, easily carrying the huge vat of potatoes out to the serving line, "And now they'll take care of each other, until you get out."   
"Right, Dean replied, catching sight of Castiel scurrying back to the kitchen. He was hunched over, looking extremely distressed. 

"Benny," he said, pointing at Cas. Benny bit his lip.   
"I had a feelin that was gonna happen," he drawled, "It's up to you, brother. He trusts you more than me."   
"What? I can't do that on my own!" he said, turning to Benny. Benny raised an eyebrow, looking unamused.   
"Well? Get on over there, now," he said, taking over Dean's job, "Give me an update when you're done." 

Dean sighed, following the other man out of the back of the kitchen, out to the loading dock. He watched as Cas rubbed his arms against the cold air, shivering.   
"Cas?" Dean asked quietly, "You okay?" Castiel shook his head.   
"Why are you kind to me?" he demanded, his blue eyes filled with suspicion. Dean lifted his hands in defeat, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.   
"I'm nice to you because you were nice to me first," Dean said, "I was locked in solitary and you talked to me." Cas bit his lip.   
"I almost killed my brother. Doesn't that make you want to stay away from me?" Cas said, looking ready for rejection. Dean shrugged.   
"My surrogate Dad put a loaded shotgun to my real dad's chest and they still cared about each other," he said, shrugging, "Stuff happens. You didn't want to kill him, did you?"   
"No," he said, shaking his head, "Never. I was just scared." Dean moved a little closer, still trying to be as calm as possible.   
"Then I'll just avoid scaring you." Cas nodded tiredly, tugging at the hem of his shirt.   
"Do you know who I am?" Cas asked, looking at Dean with owlish eyes. Dean shrugged. 

"You're Cas Milton. You were in solitary next to me, and you don't know how to use a comb. You take everything too seriously and literally, and you have a bad temper. You like bees, and honey drops- I find the wrappers everywhere. That's all I know about you." Cas looked thunderstruck. 

"You don't know who my family is?" Cas asked. Dean shook his head.   
"Why would I? More importantly, why would I care? Are they a bunch of dickbags?" Dean asked, "I mean- you made them sound pretty cool."   
"You sound like my brother Gabriel," Cas said with a small smile, "It's better that you don't know.” Dean looked concerned.   
"Is this about your visit?" Dean asked, Cas rubbed his arm, shrugging.   
"A little," he said quietly. Dean tried not to laugh- Cas was a shit liar.   
"Your brothers upset you?"   
"Yes."   
"How?"   
Cas looked panicked, like an animal ready to bolt.   
"I don't want to talk about it," he said quickly. Dean nodded.   
"Okay. Just want to know that you're okay."   
"I am...okay," Cas said haltingly, looking at Dean with a small smile, "Thank you Dean." Dean nodded, following the other man back in. Benny had a warm smile on his face as Cas went to work on cleaning up the prep area.   
"Thank you kindly, boy," he said, "You feelin alright?"   
"Fine, thank you," Cas replied. Benny nodded, putting a hand on his shoulder and shoving a tray in his hand.   
"Sakes alive boy," he said, raising an eyebrow, "You best eat and put some meat on those bones. You too," he said, snapping at Dean and pointing at a well laden tray, "I'll be out to eat with you two in a few minutes." 

They both nodded, sitting at one of the empty and not so dirty tables in a corner. Cas's face lit up, seeing that Benny too had listened to what Cas preferred to eat. The plate was laden with a large pile of potatoes, carrots and a small sweet roll on the side. Cas prayed quickly before digging in, savoring each bite. Dean smiled, digging into his own food as Benny approached and sat across from them. 

"You boys certainly enjoy your own cookin," he said with a smile, digging into his food. Dean laughed, shaking his head.   
"No. We enjoy your cooking," Dean replied, "I thought prison food is supposed to be shit."   
"It is," Benny replied, "They just never planned on having me in the kitchen. I can turn anything into an edible meal." Dean laughed a little.   
"This is more than edible," he said, shoveling more food into his mouth. Benny laughed, looking over at Cas.   
"It's good to see you eating," he said, "You've barely touched your food for the past few days. I was fixin to hold you down and force-feed you." Cas chuckled, biting into the sweet roll with a wide smile.   
"I feel better now that I've eaten," Cas said, chewing quickly. Benny chuckled.   
"Can't feel bad with a bread basket full of good cookin," Benny replied as the table fell into companionable silence.


	16. Chapter 16

"I've had enough of the Milton brothers running all over me and my patient, Crowley," Meg said, standing in front of Crowley's desk with her arms folded.   
Crowley had to admit- as much as he’d love to smear her blood on the walls, she did look quite cute in her psychiatrist of the year getup.   
"Now now darling," he said, leaning back in his chair, "There's no need to get your prescription pad in a twist."   
Meg raised an eyebrow, leaning forward against his desk.   
"I don't care how far up the Milton's asses you are," Meg said, "I'm not going to put up with those self-righteous pricks insulting me and upsetting my patient." Crowley chuckled.   
"Oh, darling," he said, smirking, "You act like you care about your little patient." Meg's jaw set in a hard line, making Crowley sit up and lean forward.   
"That's the problem, isn't it? You like the littlest Milton. You like having him follow your words like a baby duck follows his momma." 

"I want out, Crowley. Your deal? It means shit to me. Tear it up and shove it up your ass," she snapped. Crowley stood, pouring himself some scotch into a glass tumbler.   
"Meg, my sweet, my darling, my little genius," Crowley said, stepping forward and pinching her cheek, "You've been very bad in the past, and I've made all that go away. Are you sure you wanna throw that away all over a scrawny rich boy who's facing another few years here?" She flinched out of his touch, glaring at him.   
"Oh, if looks could kill," Crowley crowed, pressing a hand to his heart, "But, they can't. Still want to back out? You can leave all your identification on the desk- oh, and your identity."   
Meg bit her lip, closing her eyes. Crowley had her cornered. She opened her eyes, rage burning in her eyes.   
"This isn't over, sugar," she said, turning to leave.   
"It never is, darling," Crowley replied, "But how I love it when the mouse tries to hiss at the cat." 

Meg slammed the door of his office, her heels clicking angrily down the hall. How dare he! She was smarter than him, had more power than him once, she could kill him if she really felt like it...

She felt a hand on her shoulder, turning to face Alastair.   
"Now now, Kitten," Alastair said, smiling, "What has you all ruffled up?" She sighed, pushing a few stray hairs out of her face.   
"I'm going to murder him, Alastair," she said, "I'm going to kill him. And then, I'm going to cook him for dinner, and he'll taste delicious, and I'll laugh the whole time. Want to come to dinner?"   
"Not if you're having Crowley, kitten," Alastair replied, grinning, "Now if you're serving up some of that new thing you've been tinkering with, I'll have some of him."   
"Winchester?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Alistair licked his lips.   
"He looks very...tender. Underneath that tough hide is some very succulent meat, if you get my meaning." Meg rolled her eyes.   
"You can't do that anymore," she said, sighing, "Neither of us can."   
"That is probably my least favorite thing about America," Alistair said, his long fingers gently stroking the back of Meg's neck, "That law against cruel and unusual punishment. How do they expect anyone to learn anything?"   
"I don't know," she said quietly, leaning into his touch. He pulled his hand away, wagging a finger at her.   
"Ah ah ah, kitten," he drawled, "That's what you have Benny for." Meg sighed, straightening herself. 

"Do what you like with everyone else, but you leave Milton out of it, okay?" Meg said, raising an eyebrow, "He's mine."   
"You and your little pet projects," Alistair said, running his nose along the top of her head, "You should wear your hair down. What's the fun in having all that pretty hair if no one can tug on it?"   
"You're disgusting," she said with a smirk.   
"Maybe your pretty little unicorn will give it a few tugs?" Alistair said in her ear. She flinched away, looking furious.   
"Too far, sugar," she hissed, starting down the hall. Alistair smirked, whistling and twirling his baton on his way to Crowley's office.


	17. Chapter 17

"Alright boys, we have to pretend that I'm not breaking every rule for you and actually get some therapy in, okay?" Meg said, twirling her pen between her fingers. Sam looked completely at ease, compared to Dean, who looked like he was facing a firing squad. Meg smirked a little, resting her feet on her desk and putting her clipboard in her lap. 

"Looks like Fezzik over there has already been in therapy before," she commented, "Come on Inigo, catch up with the times."   
"Did you just..." Dean began, shaking his head, "Never mind." Sam glanced over at Dean.   
"Why are those names familiar?"   
"Drop it."   
Meg grinned, "That's from the Princess Bride, Sam." Sam looked at Dean.   
"Didn't you read that to me when I was a kid?" he asked.   
Dean pursed his lips, "Look, it was all I had and you didn't want to watch any more tv so I read it to you! Anyways it's not a girly story like the title makes you think- you loved that story! It was manly as hell."   
Meg watched as the brothers went back and forth for a few more moments, tapping her clipboard against the desk to get their attention.  
"Now that you two are done," she said, "Let’s get to the meat of this visit." Sam nodded, looking suddenly as uncomfortable as Dean. She flipped through her notes, her eyes focusing on Sam. 

"So, Sam. We had a long interview over the phone when Dean was set to be brought here, didn't we?" she asked, waiting for Sam to nod, "And we talked about a lot of things, and what you'd like to see us do to help your brother. In fact, we wrote up a treatment plan, didn't we?"   
"Yes," Sam mumbled, suddenly interested in the pattern of the tile on the floor.   
"But when Dean and I made a treatment plan, he seemed to have a lot of different ideas."   
"Like what?' Dean demanded. Meg raised an eyebrow.   
"Well, sugar, Sam wants you to finally confront all those scary skeletons in the closet you call your brain. You, on the other hand, want to become more 'functional'."   
"There are no skeletons in my closet!" Dean argued. Meg laughed.   
"Are you gonna tell me that one day you woke up with complex ptsd? You do realize that the only way to develop that is to be exposed to extreme trauma over an extended period of time." Dean folded his arms, muttering, "Trauma my ass." Meg looked at Sam. 

"Sam, do you have any memory gaps?" she asked politely.   
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, wrinkling his forehead. Meg glanced at Dean. Who had promptly shut up.   
"You know, those times when you're thinking real hard about a memory that someone who also was there told you about, but no matter how you try, you just can't see it?"   
Sam looked incredibly uncomfortable. He squirmed a little, crossing and uncrossing his legs.   
"I guess...occasionally," he replied, "Why?" Meg turned back to Dean, smirking.   
"You aren't infallible, Dean. All that effort, and your brother still has the same dissociative effects of post-traumatic stress disorder as you do. Of course, not to the same extreme though." Sam leaned forward, jumping to Dean's defense. 

"Don't say that to him, he did his best!" Sam said, gripping the edges of the chair tightly, "He was the best brother I could ever ask for. He did everything he could."   
"Now Sam, did I say he was bad, or that he didn't try?" Meg asked, "No. I told him that his mind refuses to acknowledge that you had suffered in the least compared to him, which is not true and is the center of his narcissistic tendencies. Isn't that right Dean?"   
Dean was staring at his palms. She was right. He had failed Sam, and that's what got them both here, him behind bars and Sam alone out there. 

"I didn't mean it," Dean said quietly, "I know I said that Sam got off easy, that I tried so hard to make sure he got off easy, but I know he didn't. I just...I wanted to believe it, you know? I wanted to believe that I saved him."   
"Is that why you attacked that officer, Dean?" Meg asked, leaning forward, "Were you really trying to rescue Sam from that officer, or were you trying to save him from your father?"   
"Stop!" Sam yelled, "Jesus Christ, this psychobabble is a bunch of crap- look at what you're doing to him!" Meg looked over at him, her face showing her irritation.   
"Sam, he has to confront himself if he ever plans to get better. If he doesn't confront these skeletons, he'll never stop needing to hurt people in order to feel safe."   
"I don't do it so I can feel safe," Dean said, "I do it to make sure Sam's safe. Sam has to be safe, he's the most important thing. Sam's the baby." Meg looked at Sam, gesturing to Dean's hunched form. 

"See? He's confronting the psychological conditioning he's always had. He has no autonomy, Sam. He really believes that his life and worth surround your happiness. Is that fair?" 

Sam looked furious. 

"What have you got him doped up on?" he demanded.   
"He's doped up on the fact that in here, there's no alcohol or porn or loose women to drown himself in so that he can forget just how damaged he is. Sam, really. Don't you remember how hard it was when you were all alone on that college campus, pining after Allyn, pouring over your textbooks and trying to forget how much you missed your brother? How insecure you felt without him?" 

Sam flinched at that. 

"And now, you've thrown yourself at Allyn, because you've never been truly all alone. No matter where Dean was, you just had to call and suddenly, he was there. Now you can't do that, because there's over 10,000 tons of brick and steel between you." 

Sam looked like he was ready to drag her across the desk, his teeth grinding and his knuckles white.   
"Stop."   
"Why should I, Sam? Does it make you uncomfortable? Do you feel those skeletons in your own closet rattling the handle? You wanted Dean to confront his issues, but are you willing to do the same?" Meg spread her hands out, "This is your choice, Sam. You can leave. Now Dean...well, he can't."   
"You bitch," Dean growled, glaring at her, "Don't you talk to him like that."   
"Sugar, if he can't handle the truth, then he needs to grow up," Meg retorted. 

She looked up at the clock, her face smoothing into a fake smile.   
"We've made progress today, boys," she said, writing, "We're going to ease the tension before we finish here, okay? Been a lot of deep pain addressed."   
"What would you know about pain?" Sam hissed, "All you know is how to inflict it." Meg's eyes seemed far away, shaking her head and re-entering the moment.   
"I know quite a lot about pain, Hulk," she replied, "After all, experience is the best teacher."


	18. Chapter 18

Meg tried to shake off the strange feeling she had after she sent Sam and Dean on their way- it was almost like she felt....guilty. 

No, she was doing her job. Alastair wanted Dean mentally weakened, that's how he liked his toys, and Meg was the only one who could do it. She had been tapping away at those big, thick walls Dean had put up, she had gotten him comfortable with her, hell, maybe he trusted her a little- and she tore it all down. She bit her lip, shaking her head.   
This was her job.  
She had to do her job. She'd die to think of the consequences if she refused- from Alastair or Crowley.   
Hell, both of them.   
Her buzzer rang, the front office clerk telling her that Balthazar Milton had arrived for his meeting. She sighed, tucking the bottle of cheap alcohol and class in her desk drawer before going to fetch Castiel.


	19. Chapter 19

"Balthazar, Castiel. There is gonna be a lot of ground to cover between you two if we're going to get Cas back on the path to healing," Meg said, walking them both past her office and down the hall. Cas looked at the door to her office, confused.   
"Where are we going, Meg?" he asked.   
"We're going to heaven, Clarence," she joked, casting a look over her shoulder, "Just a more comfortable space for this sort of thing. It's more spacious, and more private." Cas nodded, casting a glance at Balthazar. He had the same stony expression he had when he had first walked in, and Cas was terrified. Maybe Balthazar was still mad at him...  
They entered the conference room, and Cas painfully noted the pained gasp Balthazar gave as he sat down in one of the chairs.   
He did that. 

Meg sat down across from them, her signature clipboard nestled in her lap and her pen ready. She opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Balthazar's hand.   
"Sorry sweetheart," Balthazar said with a smirk, "But this is my time with my dear brother. I get to talk, and you get to talk if I let you."   
Meg wasn't about to argue with the man- honestly, she'd rather have crawled under her desk and cuddled the bottle in her desk. She nodded, taking notes as they spoke. 

Balthazar turned to face Cas, a sad smile on his face.   
"My god Cassie, you look ghastly," he joked, reaching out to brush his hand across Cas's forehead. Cas flinched a little, looking down.   
"I stabbed you and you are worried about how I look," Cas said softly, "I deserve your wrath."   
"You deserve a good flaying, I agree there. But really, I'd rather not get blood on my favorite suit." Cas chuckled a little at that, making eye contact with Balthazar.   
"How is the injury?" Cas asked hesitantly.   
"It smarts and burns, but then again, so does a decent whiskey."   
"You shouldn't drink," Cas cautioned, his brow furrowing with worry. Balthazar laughed.   
"Really? I don't have you, Gabriel, or Anna to keep me sane now- I have to turn to liquid courage to survive the family dinners. Speaking of family," he said, giving Cas a long look, "I heard that Uriel and Raphael paid you a visit without me, those little pricks."   
"It was unpleasant," Cas said, looking nervous. Balthazar nodded.   
"I'm sure you've figured out what they want you to do," he said. Cas nodded. 

"What do they want Castiel to do?" Meg asked, leaning forward. Balthazar gave her a disdainful look, rolling his eyes. 

"If you must know, sweetheart," he replied, "They want him to take the fall for the deaths of Anna and Gabriel." Meg looked like she swallowed a frog, and Cas looked like he wanted to crawl inside himself.   
"But Anna is only missing," Meg said, her eyes darting between the two of them. Balthazar raised an eyebrow. 

"You didn't tell her?" Balthazar demanded. Cas shook his head.   
"You were there," Balthazar hissed, "You saw what they did with your own two eyes- why didn't you tell?"   
"They ordered me not to," Cas said, spreading his hands helplessly.   
"So you listened? How dense are you?"  
"I was afraid!" Cas yelped, "You didn't see what they did- you can't imagine how terrifying and horrible it was. You can't. And then Gabriel..." he covered his face with his hands, "I was so sure I was next. I was so sure they sent you after me." Balthazar rested a gentle hand on Cas's arm.   
"Cassie, Don't be afraid, okay? Sure, you're an annoying twat and I've given you my fair share of beatings, but I'd never try to truly hurt you," he said gently, "But I will kill you if you let them pin our siblings deaths on you."   
"I won't," Cas said softly, "They're a bunch of assbutts. They couldn't get proof even if they wanted to." Balthazar laughed loudly at that, rolling his eyes.   
"Gabriel never did quite teach you the proper way to curse," he said, "I think it was mostly because he found your insults amusing." He looked over at Meg, a slight glint in his eye, "Cassie used to tell Gabriel regularly to 'get pooped on'. I'm fairly sure he used to upset Cas just to hear that."   
"Get pooped on," Cas mumbled, breaking the tension in the room as all of them laughed. 

Meg realized why Crowley was pushing her so hard to break Castiel down the way she was doing to Dean- so he would be insane and broken enough to blame for his siblings deaths without the will to fight against it. She glanced between the two brothers, feeling another wave of guilt for her behavior earlier. She swallowed it, preparing to close the session.


	20. Chapter 20

Benny looked between his two friends, scratching his head. In the past 8 months, he was completely used to Cas regularly being an emotional wreck, but recently, he'd seemed fine. It was Dean that he was worried about.   
Dean was always happy to see Sam, and visitation was always a high point of the week for him- he got to see Sam, and Allyn, Allyn even brought Flyn once apparently. Benny was always happy to hear about Dean's family, or what he called his family- the pride in his eyes, the smile on his face when he pinned up a picture from Sam's prom in his bunk, right next to his picture of his mother. But in the past month and a half, The light was gone from his eyes, he didn't eat, barely slept- Benny and Cas hadn't had a full night's sleep without waking up to Dean's thrashing. Cas had accurately likened it to the way a fish flops around when it's out of water- like he couldn't breathe.   
Then of course, there were the bruises on his wrists and arms; all the time he was missing from his usual duties. Benny had a bad feeling, and he knew he could only get answers from one person. 

"Come in," Meg called from her desk, not even bothering to hide her drink. She glanced up, a smile spreading across her lips.   
"My sweet sweet moonshine," she said softly, smiling, "What do I owe the pleasure? Looking for a slice of pecan pie, as usual?" Benny chuckled, walking in and closing the door.   
"Peach pie, sweetheart, Peach pie is the word." Meg laughed, sliding out from behind her desk as Benny sat down in the chair. She straddled his lap, stroking his face.   
"Hmm, looks like something's on your mind," she said softly, rolling her hips against his. He grabbed her hips roughly, stilling her.   
"What are you doing to Dean?" he demanded, "I need to know." Meg stopped, huffing and rolling her eyes.   
"Why do you care, Lafitte?" she demanded. Benny smirked, grasping her chin and pulling her down hard against his lips.   
"You told me to look after them, didn't you?" he asked, nipping her lip, "I'm only doin my job, Miz Meg." She slid off his lap, standing and folding her arms.   
"What usually happens when Alastair takes a liking to an inmate?" Meg asked. Benny shrugged.   
"Spends some quality private time and makes them a big pile of fucked up crazy. So what's up with Dean, then? Is it his pretty eyes?" Meg laughed, sitting behind the desk again.   
"I don't even know, really," She said, rubbing her lip, "Maybe it's the fact that it was relatively easy for me to mentally prep him. I don't know. You know I'm not supposed to discuss this sorta thing with you or else your brick wall disappears and he gets his hands on you." Benny raised an eyebrow.   
"I know I'm a good lay, but really, I didn't think you cared so much."   
"I don't," she snapped.   
"You do about Cas."   
She glared hard at him, knocking bacl some more of her drink. He smirked.   
"So you do care about our resident honeybee fanatic." Meg shrugged, lifting her glass.   
"You caught me. What do you want?"   
"I want you to make Alastair stop. That boy, he's got 5 months left. He's got a family on the outside."   
"Please, he's got a little brother he threw 13 months away for. What makes him any more important than you, Benny? You've got 10 years left, a Granddaughter that loves you more than anything. Cas has a brother who wants nothing more than to scoop up his baby brother and disappear to Barbados. Dean is resilient. He'll live through it. After all- I did."   
"That doesn't make it right, darlin."   
"All I'm saying is, that boy has a hundred pounds and a good foot on me. If I could live through it, so can he- sure, he'll be a little worse for wear, but he'll survive." Benny shook his head, looking angry. Meg stood up, folding her arms.   
"Listen Benny, you like our little playtime? The fact that no one is willing to even look at you funny? That's me. You wanna get me killed? Yourself, Cas, Dean? Keep digging. Alastair isn't like Crowley. Alastair likes killing when he's done breaking things."   
"He can't do that," Benny said, standing up.   
"Oh really? Don't you remember all the inmates who were just...dead in their cells one day? I know you remember. And I know you remember a time when doing time in here was simple. You do your time, avoid getting something funny stuck in you, and tried to forget when you got out. That doesn't happen here anymore. This is the big leagues, Babe Ruth. You're trying to knock it out of the park and drag the team to the championships. But you. Can't." 

Benny sat back, staring at her. 

"So Dean is collateral damage to you?" Meg rolled her eyes.   
"Everyone is collateral damage, Benny. Everyone."   
"So you expect me to sit back and watch Alastair tear him apart?"   
"He's in one piece, isn't he? No physical evidence- well, nothing enough to raise suspicion," Meg said, "Benny, if you have to, do what you have to. But don't expect me to help you. I have to protect myself."   
"And Cas, you unicorn," He replied, "Don't think I don't know." Meg turned, her hair whirling as she glared at him.   
"You do anything-"   
"I'm not like you, Miz Meg. I'm not gonna let someone hurt a kid to get what I want."   
"Get out," she hissed, "Get out and don't fucking come back. Not until you know that what you're doing will get us all killed!"   
Benny slammed the door shut, stomping down the hall. His shoulder slammed into someone, jerking him from his rage.   
"Cas?" he said, looking confused, "Wait...where's Dean?"


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Torture

" _Spring is here, spring is here. Life is skittles, and life is beer._ " 

Dean shook his head, trying to clear the daze from his head. He struggled against teh straps on his arms and chest, trying to remember how he got there. He couldn't think straight with the sound of singing around him. 

" _I think the loveliest time of year is the spring..._ " 

Dean blinked, letting out a grunt as he struggled. Alastair's face was suddenly in the corner of his vision, a sopping towel in his hand. 

"I do, don't you?" he sang, pausing and waiting for an answer. When none came, he slapped the towel over Dean's face, singing, "Of course you do."  
Dean struggled frantically, remembering what always came next. Alastair was taking his time, still singing. 

" _But there's one thing that makes spring complete for me, and makes every sunday a treat for me...._ " 

Dean heard the plastic hose dragging across the floor, his blood running cold as he heard Alastair start the spray. 

" _Oh the world is in tune..._ " 

Cold, burning cold water covered his face, his gurgling screams muffled by the spray and the towel as he struggled fruitlessly, his body convulsing. 

" _On a spring afternoon..._ " 

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see or thing, just the terrible burning of water in his eyes and nose and throat, his thrashing doing no good. 

" _When we're poisoning pigeons in the park.._."

The spray stopped, the room filled only with Alastair's chuckles and Dean's sputtering gasps. He  heard as Alastair knelt next to his head, leaning close to his ear.  
"Oh, my little pigeon, are you having fun yet?" he asked, chuckling, "I wonder what your brother would look like on my table, hmm?" He yanked the towel off of Dean's face as he continued to sputter and gasp.  
"Bite me," he choked out, spitting water in Alastair's face. Alastair wiped of his face, clicking his tongue.  
"Now that's no way to treat your host, Dean. I'll have to teach you some manners." There was the wet slap of the towel over his face, and the water- god, the drowning water again as he continued to struggle. He wanted to pass out, to drown...and just as his world began to face black, the water stopped, the towel removed, and his lungs struggled to gasp for air. Alistair knelt next to his head again, a wide animalistic smile on his face.  
"Or maybe that pretty little ginger he brings to visitation. Oh, I noticed," Alastair said, "I've got eyes everywhere, Dean. You know, it's just a matter of time until I get them too, don't you? Sam and Allyn are young. they make...mistakes. And they'll be behind bars, and I'll be right...there."  
"No you won't," Dean grated, "I'll get out of here....and they'll never get caught. I'll make sure." Alastair laughed.  
"So you'd end up right back here for them? What the little maytr you are. Here, the next song is dedicated to Sam's little leprechaun."

"About a maid I'll sing a song, Sing rickety-tickety-tin, About a maid I'll sing a song, Who didn't have her family long," he sang, pulling a strange device off of the table. It looked remarkably like a ball-gag, but with a funnel rather than a gag. Dean struggled, thrashing his head this way and that until Alastair forced it into his mouth and down his throat. He stared with wide eyes as Alastair picked up a large jug of what looked and smelled like vodka. He unscrewed the cap, holding it over his mouth.  
" _Not only did she do them wrong, She did ev'ryone of them in, them in, She did ev'ryone of them in_." 

The worst hadn't been imagined- he had to swallow the burning liquid to avoid drowning as it flowed in his eyes and nose. He coughed and chocked, barely hearing Alastair as he changed they lyrics to the tune he remembered hearing from Allyn once. Three more times, he was doused in the alcohol, his stomach distended his feeling completely, drop-dead drunk. 

"Now now, Dean, this is prison. Can't have you drunk now can we?" Alastair said with a grin, opening a bottle and pouring the bitter contents down Dean's throat. He unbound Dean, dropping a large bucket in front of him.  
"In there," he demanded. Dean's stomach roiled and cramped before he was choking on his vomit, all the alcohol and water and whatever Alastair had given him being violently ejected from his body.  He shook on the hard floor, his body covered in sweat and water and drool, wishing for nothing else than some sort of release.  
There was a loud thump on the door, the same one that always came just before he was released. Alastair looked disappointed, turning on the hose and spraying Dean's entire body.  
"That's all for today, pigeon," he replied pointing at the table, "Change and go about your day, inmate."  



	22. Chapter 22

Dean was stumbling to the kitchen, nearly jumping out of his skin when he felt a gentle hand upon his back.   
“Dean?” Cas said, looking concerned, “You look ill.” Dean pushed his hand away, trying to calm his heart. He breathed deeply, trying to collect himself.   
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice raspy from all the abuse it had just endured. Cas leaned forward, sniffing him.   
“You smell like my brother does after a bad night at dinner,” he said, wrinkling his nose. Dean cracked a weak smile.   
“And what does he smell like?”   
“Alcohol, vomit, and exhaustion.”   
Dean almost laughed. How sad was that- he just got done having another “fun time with Alastair” session, and he smelled like Cas’s brother after a “bad night at dinner.” Dean subconsciously made the decision that he was going to treat Cas and his not-douchebag brother to a decent family dinner. With his family.   
“I’m fine, Cas,” Dean rasped again, looking even more tired than he had before. Cas didn’t want to- but he let it go. No point in making things more difficult for Dean; he was just two short months away from freedom, and being back with his little family. Cas sighed, walking next to him as they headed back to the kitchen.   
“I saw a honeybee today,” Cas said conversationally, “I followed him to the fence.”   
“Did you?” Dean said, thankful for Cas’s new change of subject. Cas nodded seriously.   
“I saw where his hive was. Beehives are beautiful, don’t you think?”   
“Sure.”   
They stopped at the wash station, scrubbing up their hands and throwing on aprons. Before Dean could even finish helping Cas tie the back of his apron though, Benny was breathing down his neck.   
“Winchester. Outside. Now, boy.”   
Dean swallowed hard, the order sending shaking waves of nostalgia down his spine. He shook it off, following Benny. When they were out of earshot, Benny was in his face.   
“Where do you keep disappearing to, Dean? Hours on end, I HAVE NO CLUE WHERE YOU ARE, and Cas just wanders around looking for you in the same damn 5 places…you smell like a bar. Why the hell do you smell like a bar?”   
Dean looked down, only to have Benny grab his chin and make him look in his eyes. Dean flinched, a look of fear crossing in his eyes.   
“I ain’t your Daddy, boy,” Benny said, “I wanna help.” Dean sighed hard, his shoulders sagging.   
“Alastair. He has some…pretty interesting hobbies. But it’s nothing I can’t handle- I only go 45 days left.”   
“It’s nothing you can’t handle? You look like you’ve been through the ringer boy!” Dean gave him a weak smile, shrugging.   
“If I had to be honest, getting water boarded is kinda like when my Dad buried me to teach me how to escape a situation like that.” Benny looked horrified.   
“How old were you?”   
“Nine. Well, the first time I was 7, but I ended up having a panic attack and Dad quit halfway through.”   
“Your dad was some kinda fucked up,” Benny said, shuddering. Dean shrugged.   
“Really that was kinda mild…” Benny held up a hand, cutting him off.   
“Listen. You wanna keep letting Alastair use you as his little torture toy, go ahead. But don’t be stupid enough to trust Meg.” Dean smirked.   
“You think I trusted that bitch? I was gonna get my ass chewed by Alastair either way- lucky for me they couldn’t use much in my noggin to torture me.” He shrugged, “What’s 45 more days of almost drowning and stress positions? It’s technically legal…ish. Whatever. I’m focused on what’s waiting for me at the end of the tunnel,” Dean said. Benny looked concerned.   
“Yeah, but you gonna be able to survive out there, after all this? How’s Sam gonna deal with this, or Allyn?” Dean bit his lip.   
“They’re never gonna find out. As far as they know, I spent my whole time in here babysitting Cas and working in the kitchen with you. And that’s how it’s gonna stay.”   
They both heard the loud scrape of the door, turning to see Cas.   
“I have to go,” Cas said firmly, “It’s time for me to see Meg.”   
Dean and Benny shared a look before Benny nodded.   
“Alright boy, go on. But you best come right back here when you’re done.” Cas looked confused, nodding. Benny had always been a stickler for the both of them to check in, but never as serious as he was now. Cas looked at Dean one more time, a feeling of dread in his stomach. Dean looked terrible, and he didn’t know why or what to do about it. He decided to tell Meg, maybe she could help…after all, she was so good to him. She’d protected him from his brothers, and helped him repair his relationship with Balthazar. Maybe she could help Dean.


	23. Chapter 23

“I can’t help him, sugar,” Meg said, shaking her head. Cas looked heartbroken and then…angry.   
“How can you say that?” Cas demanded, “You have helped me, you helped Benny, why won’t you help Dean?”   
Meg sighed. Maybe….if Cas knew, it had gone too far. She doubted that Cas actually knew what was happening to Dean; but if he had noticed, then Benny was probably close to a fit over it. She sighed. Maybe it was time. Maybe it was time to end this.   
“I’ll try,” she said quietly, “You should feel lucky that I’m doing this, Clarence.”


	24. Chapter 24

His arms were numb. He was all trussed up, apparently Alastair was bored with waterboarding and the “water cure”. He figured he should be thankful- it’s not like he’d never been tied up before, or forced to stay in horribly painful positions for a long time. At least Alastair had never heard of making people kneel on rice. God, he used to hate that- how it’d cut into his knees, how if he moved just an inch it would shoot even more pain up his legs; and listening to Sam cry was never good for making him stay still.

_“It hurts,” Sammy whimpered, squirming. Dean glanced over his shoulder, their dad not in the room. He took his hands off the top of his head and reached over, motioning for sam to sit back on his legs. They had been kneeling for about ten minutes, and there were already little trickles of blood coming from his legs._   
_“Shhh,” he whispered, brushing away the little pieces of rice that were digging into Sam’s skin. Sammy bit his lip, trying not to cry as Dean hurriedly tried to pull the rice away from his skin. Dad never really check Sammy, to see if he cheated. Dean was usually able to distract him._   
_“Sorry,” Sammy whispered as Dean finished the job. Dean shook his head, pulling Sammy back into the kneeling position._   
_“It’s not your fault,” Dean whispered back, “I chased you. I made you trip and I made you fall into the table and spill Dad’s drink on his journal. It’s my fault.”_

“It’s my fault,” he mumbled, earning Alastair’s attention. Alastair took the bag off of his head, sitting down in a chair in the center of the room.   
“You know, Dean,” Alastair said, picking up a book from the floor and leafing through it, “I like boys like you. Young. Bright eyed, bushy tailed, not ready for the type of things I’m into. But for some reason, you’re holding up just fine.”   
“I’m a different kind of person, I guess,” Dean replied, wincing. Alastair shook his head.   
“No, not different. Just…flexible. I can bend you into all sorts of pretty shapes but you just won’t break, will you? Reminds me of one of my favorite little playthings. Actually, you know her very well- or more aptly, she knows you.”   
“What the hell are you talking about?” Alastair stood, tsking at him again.   
“So impatient, little pigeon,” he said, untying Dean and watching with a smirk as he fell to the floor. He knelt down next to Dean.   
“Oh, that left shoulder of yours, hmm? Always popping out of that little socket. Daddy must be right handed.” He grabbed Dean’s arm, slamming it back into place with surgical precision as Dean let out a scream.   
“See, you never scream for me- That has to be the first time you ever have,” Alastair said, “And it’s such a cute scream.”   


“Alastair.”

Both Dean and Alastair looked up to see meg walking across the room, having slipped in without their notice.   
“Kitten!” Alastair purred, standing up, “What a lovely surprise. I thought you were done with torturing- or did you take a special interest in this one too?” Meg shook her head.   
“This is the last time,” she said firmly. Alastair raised an eyebrow.   
“What was that, kitten?”

Meg was terrified. She had learned torture under Alastair’s loving tuteledge, and the only way to learn according to him was through experience. She knew that just as quick as he released Dean, he could put her on the proverbial rack. She steeled herself. It wasn’t because she cared. She didn’t want them to get caught.   
“The inmates have noticed,” she said, “Dean is a nice piece of ass, sugar. Even if they can’t get him, they notice when he’s missing. Someone’s gonna start snooping, maybe even go to Crowley…and you know how much he hates bad publicity.” Alastair snorted.   
“I couldn’t care what that gormless lump of flesh likes,” he replied, moving towards Dean again.

“Then I’ll be the one who exposes you.”

Alastair stopped, looking back at her with a cruel smile.   
“You’ve called my hand, kitten,” he said, standing, “This isn’t over.” He moved across the room and out the door, leaving Dean and Meg alone. She knelt down, taking off the rest of his binds.   
“Why the fuck did you do that?” Dean demanded, holding his arm to his chest.   
“Don’t think it has anything to do with you, ken-doll,” she replied, “Get out of here, and never ever come when he calls you again, understand? If you do, I swear to God I’ll come down here and help him, and this time, you won’t get off without any scars.”   
Dean scrambled to his feet, his whole body screaming as he ran out of the room. Meg closed her eyes, listening to his shuffling steps and the slam of the door. _Fucking Cas_ , she thought to herself, _You’d better appreciate what I just did_.


	25. Chapter 25

It had been 4 days, and there had been no sign of Alastair. Well, they had seen him in the halls, and when the guards did the count, but he hadn’t approached Dean at all, much to his relief. But it was Cas who pointed out another strange thing- None of them had seen or heard from Meg, not even for their regular sessions or group therapy. Dean decided that if nothing else- he owed it to Meg to find out what had happened for saving him.   
“How are you, Sammy?” he asked into the phone. He heard the nondescript snort on the other end.   
“Fine, I guess. Nothing new to report,” he replied.   
“You sure?”   
“Yeah man. It’s just that this is the final stretch, and you’ll be home soon,” Sammy said, “I don’t want to wait anymore.”   
“At least you have Allyn,” Dean replied, “Listen. Have you heard from Meg in the past few days?”   
“Like, your Therapist Meg? The one I hate?”   
“Yeah, that one.”   
He heard the shuffle of paper in the background, followed by Flyn yelling, “Sam! Who you talking to?”   
“Dean.”   
There was the sound of a scuffle, Sam yelling at Flyn to get off and Flyn laughing.   
“Yo Dean, what’s up?” Flyn asked. Dean chuckled.   
“Not much Flyn. Staying out of your sister’s warpath?”   
“You have no idea. Just a few days ago, you wouldn’t believe who-“   
The struggle noises started again, Sam reclaiming the phone.   
“Okay,” he said, sounding a little breathless, “I haven’t heard from meg for about 4 days, when she said she was canceling all of our group therapy appointments until your release. Something about her not being able to pull it anymore.” Dean nodded.   
“And that was 4 days ago, out of the blue?” he asked.   
“Yeah. Something wrong with that?” Sam asked.   
“No,” Dean mumbled, “So, who wouldn’t I believe?”   
“What?” Sam asked.   
“You heard me. What was Flyn talking about?”   
“Nothing.”   
Dean dropped it, but he was going to grill Flyn when he was finally out of this shit hole- at least Flyn wouldn’t lie to him. Hopefully.   
He hung up the phone and walked back to the kitchen, greeted by Benny and Cas.   
“Well?” Benny and Cas demanded at the same time.   
“Well…Sam heard from her a few days ago, and she canceled all of the group therapy until I got out- I assume she did the same for you, Cas.”   
“But why?” Cas demanded. Dean looked concerned.   
“I might have an idea of where she is.”


	26. Chapter 26

"I hate you, you know that?" Meg hissed, struggling against her binds.   
"Oh sweetheart, you're makin me all tingly," Alastair said, running a finger over her exposed chest, "Talk dirty to me."   
She bit her lip, preparing for the inevitable pain that was coming.   
“Let our love be a flame, not an ember,” Alastair sang, running the smooth, sharp blade across her throat, leaving a bloody cut across her neck. Not enough to really cause damage, just enough to burn and sting as her body sweated at his ministrations, “Say it's me that you want to dismember…”   
She gasped as the knife ran down her clavicle, nicking the skin there. He wasn’t satisfied with her reaction, tossing aside the razor and punching her hard. She let out a loud grunt, making him smile.   
“Blacken my eye, set fire to my tie, as we dance to the masochism tango,” she moaned out, spitting blood from her mouth onto his shoe. He grabbed her face hard, looking down at his shoe.   
“Really, kitten? Spitting now?” he asked. She smirked at him, and he had to admit- she did look so cute with blood staining her teeth. He released her, watching as she fell to her hands and knees, the blood staining the floor. He slid his shoe under her face.   
“Clean it up, kitten,” he commanded. She refused to move, staying still as possible. He was getting impatient, his foot winding back and kicking her hard. 

That had been four days, 3 broken fingers, 10 fingernails, a broken pelvis and a thousand cuts ago. She tried to lay as still as possible, letting her body rest before Alastair came back. Unlike Dean, if she disappeared, no one would really notice. She didn’t have friends (she had a habit of getting them killed or killing them herself) and she didn’t really talk much to anyone outside of the prison. In fact, the only people who would note her absence would be her inmates…and they’d probably be glad she was gone.   
Except Cas.   
She smiled a bit at the thought of Cas caring enough to worry about her. Her unicorn. Her sweet honey bee.   
She remembered when they kissed for the first time in her office. Oh, she knew that Cas and Dean were in it deep, how Cas always wanted to take care of him, and was always concerned for him; how Dean would do just about anything to take care of Cas. But here, in her office, it was just her and him. No one knew what went on in that little head of his like she did, and that did things to her. She had just leaned forward and kissed, him, nothing huge, a little tongue but she figured he would be no worse for wear.   
That was, until he pulled her into him and kissed her back.   
He was shy, he was amazingly uninformed about the simplest things, but god- he could wrap her up in knots.   
She’d give anything for the feeling of his chronically chapped lips and the taste of honeydrops right now. She closed her eyes, one tear slipping out as the door opened and closed again, Alastair’s voice filling the room.   
“Good mornin', good mornin'! We've danced the whole night through, good mornin', good mornin' to you!”


	27. Chapter 27

“You sure this’ll work?” Dean asked. Benny smirked.   
“Brother, it’ll work perfectly. We have Washington down in cell block C who’ll start his gang on another gang when the alarms go off- then we sneak on down, see if Meg’s in there and if she’s not, we lay low till the chaos has ended.” They all looked at each other, Dean’s hand tightened around the oven they had coated last night with oil.   
“Good luck.”   
Dean yanked open the oven, fire bursting out in a flash and setting off the alarms. The plan was already in action, and they had moments to get to the boiler room before everyone was caught in the pandemonium.   
“This way, now!” Dean yelled as they made their way to the rusted old door. They all exchanged nervous glances as they heard the screaming from inside. They opened the door as quietly as possible, Meg’s pained screams hitting them like a truck as Alastair ran a cut from her navel to just under her ribs.   
“Was it really worth it, kitten?” Alastair asked, “Was it really worth all this pain?”   
Meg’s screams died into nervous laughter, a horrible sound.   
“And what are you laughing at, darling?” he asked.   
“My stormtroopers are right behind you,” she gasped. Alastair turned around, facing Cas, Benny and Dean.   
“If it isn’t the three stooges,” Alastair said, grinning, “Didn’t have enough, Dean? Coming back for more Daddy style TLC?”   
Before Benny or Dean could react, Cas had his hands on either side of Alastair’s head, jerking his head and snapping his neck. He released him, his body dropping to the floor with a dull thud.   
“What the hell, boy?” benny demanded. Cas turned to face them both, a blank look on his face.   
“He had to be eliminated,” he said simply.   
“Wanna get me off this thing?’ Meg wheezed from her place on the table. Cas and Benny hurried over, lifting her off the table and onto the floor.   
“Thanks,” she groaned, gripping the front of Cas’s shirt tightly, “Wanna grab my clothes? Two of you have seen me naked but I’d rather cover up.” Cas was looking over her, Dean kneeling next to them. She wasn’t looking too good.   
“Meg, how are you?” Cas asked seriously.   
“I’m about to go all to pieces, Clarence,” she groaned, “Tends to happen when you’re playing hardball with Alastair.” Benny returned with a blanket, wrapping her in it gently as she cried out.   
“Look at my boys, taking care of me know,” she managed, smiling a little. Cas picked her up carefully, giving Benny a distrustful look when he reached out to take her.   
“I will carry Meg,” he said harshly, “Don’t touch her.”   
They were running down the empty hallways, Meg gripped tightly in Cas’s arms with her head on his shoulder. The alarms had stopped, and the guards would notice they were gone soon.   
“Stop,” Meg moaned, making Benny and Dean stop along with Cas. She looked up at them, her eyes burning with their normal clarity despite being heavy lidded and one being almost swollen shut.   
“Get out.”   
Benny and Dean turned and ran, hoping to get out to the courtyard before count.   
“”Time to say goodbye, honey bee,” she wheezed, touching Cas’s cheek gently. He grabbed her hand, shaking his head.   
“No. You aren’t going anywhere. Where are you going?” he said hurriedly. She smiled.   
“I’m goin to heaven, Clarence,” she replied, before letting out a loud cry, “No, I’m hellbound. But you gotta leave me here and get yourself safe,” she said, “I filed…a petition to have you released. Sugar, you’re goin home. And you’re gonna be happy, and you’re gonna stay friends with that prick Dean Winchester.”   
“No, Meg, I’ll be friends with you too. We can go watch the bees together!” Cas yelled, shaking her, “Meg, don’t. Meg, you can’t. You promised we would watch the bees together. You said you’d help me.”  
“I did,” she said softly, “And you helped me. Now you gotta let me go, and stay with Benny and Dean.”   
“No,” he said firmly. She pulled him down, kissing him gently on the lips.   
“Yes,” she whispered, “Now go.”   
She closed her eyes, forcing her body to go still as he released her and ran down the hall. It was all closing in, the tunnel vision, and at least…if nothing else, she did help them. She’s helped Balthatzar and Cas come together again. She’d helped Dean and Sam see what their father did to drive a wedge between them. She saved Benny from himself. If nothing else, at least…she’d done that.   
Now, if only she’d gotten a chance to kill Crowley before it was light’s out…


	28. Chapter 28

No one could figure out what had happened that day, even Crowley. They found Meg’s dead and naked body wrapped up in the wool blanket, broken and twisted. Dean never realized, but Meg was beautiful. And realizing that now made him angry, made him want to throw up, because he thought of it as he saw her laying there. Wrapped tenderly in the bloodstained wool blanket. Her hair matted and tangled, her face beaten, bloody. He heard Cas’s shuddering breath as he saw them unwrapping the blanket from her body, the vicious purpling bruises that ran from her kneecaps to her stomach, the way her legs dangled uselessly, twisted, wrong. So wrong.   
Is that fair?   
Her words from their first session with Sam.   
Is that fair?   
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that she was fucked up and crazy and goddamnit, the only fucking person who could set his head straight. It wasn’t fair that she’d taken his place. It wasn’t fair that no one would know about what she did. It wasn’t fair that it took him, Cas, and Benny snooping to figure out she was missing.   
Is that fair?   
No, Meg. It isn’t. 

Cas’s face was pressed into Dean’s shoulder, and he could feel Benny’s arm around them both, not caring for what any inmate thought. They watched as they lifted her onto the stretcher, Cas’s fingers clinging to Dean’s shirt, as if Dean’s shirt was all that was keeping him from running over, cradling her body. For the first time in his entire life, Dean really felt the weight of someone else’s pain. The clawing, burning agony that Cas was feeling, the desperation. Cas wasn’t like him and Sam. Cas didn’t know how to be stoic, how to hold all of it in, and it was then that he felt he understood why Meg had loved Cas. In a world that had made her into the psycho bitch that she was, Cas was everything that was good. Even in a prison. And for once, really, he saw someone who should’ve been the bad guy…and felt pity. What if she’d lived? Would she and Cas have gotten together? Maybe had some kids, a picket fence, a dog? He almost laughed at that thought. He couldn’t imagine Meg letting Cas have any of that- well, maybe kids. Maybe she liked kids. Maybe she liked dogs.   
He didn’t know- he didn’t know anything about her, really.   
Cas had turned into a mute around anyone who wasn’t Dean or Benny, and had taken to crawling into Dean’s bed after lights out. Dean never argued with him or turned him away, knowing that it wasn’t just that Meg was pretty, or that Meg and him had slept together. It was what Meg had given to him- someone who just wanted to help him, honestly. Meg was a psycho bitch, and he wouldn’t forgive her for “prepping” him for Alastair; but for all of her faults, she did help him. He didn’t feel half the resentment towards Sam that he’d held inside before all of this. She saved Balthazar’s and Cas’s relationship, and Benny told them about how she had saved him from killing himself, and anyone who came near him. 

He had to be honest, he never expected that moment when Cas kissed him.   
He’d been holding Cas as usual, listening to his rambling halfheartedly until Cas had calmed down enough to choke out,   
“She said I have to stick with you, Dean.”   
“What d’you mean?” Dean asked, looking down at Cas. Cas played with the frayed edge of the blanket, biting his lip.   
“She said that I had to stay with you and Benny. That I had to be friends with you,” he said, “But she knew…she knew how I felt. And I was so torn.”   
“What were you torn over?” he asked, his nose wrinkling, “Cas, you’re not making-“   
And there it was, the kiss. Soft, sweet, sad- Dean could feel it all and he gave it all back, his arms wrapped around Cas tightly, holding him close.   
“You were torn because you loved both of us.”   
“No,” Cas replied, shaking his head, “I love both of you.” Dean nodded slowly. He got it- He was the first person who was nice to Cas without wanting something. She was the first person who helped him but didn’t try to fix him.   
“I’m okay with that,” Dean said quietly, “As long as you’re okay with having to deal with my brother, his girlfriend and her brother.” Cas chuckled, cuddling against him.   
“You two love birds mind shuttin up now?” Benny yelled from his bunk, “Love ya both like sons, but I will beat you like sons unless you go the fuck to sleep.”


End file.
